I was debating with monkey over who came from where. Dark lanterns in the hands of the mischievous make for magnificent religions. His face, like mine, drawn in ink around the hair. His hate as potent. His gods as loud as I was able to hear.
At some point I'm done and it doesn't matter what I want. The floor decides it's time to fall Hanged men can't be revived.
I might die. It's true what he said. But dying is the least of it.
Shotguns at the base of her head, triggers surrounded by paper hands. Bullets of ink wound, but dare not kill. The strangers they call friend.
I could have been an end to this war if only I could stop talking to the dead.
Tuesday
1/15/2008 01:35:00 AM
i like your poems!
one small suggestion that would make my life a lot easier - can you publish full feeds instead of only the first 255 chars? i read your posts via the feeds on my cellphone, and it's a real pain when i can see only the first few lines :(
i'm glad you like them.
and i'm sorry my partial feed is a pain for you.
regretably, due to recent acts of of plagiarism i cannot offer full feeds. i wish i could. but i must make it as difficult as possible for thieves to co-opt my words.
i hope you'll continue to read evenso.
thanx for the input. I do understand your complaint and wish I could accomodate you better.
kris wants full feeds from everyone....i like the lil script you are using, been trying to make it work but somehow blogger is fucking with me...
wish there was tutorial on this :P
Hey Cheers! vodka and whiskey!:P
N
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