After a night of poetry then mediocre hamburgers in a shop with terrible music Superman and I retreated to The Peach. I was cold so I crawled under my doona still wearing my clothes which led to the surreal experience of flitting in and out of sleep while Superman read me excerpts from reviews of the movies "Masters of The Universe" and "Prayer of the Rollerboys" between singing bouts of "Flash! Aha! Saved every one of us". A different kind of poetry.
It ended suddenly with my decision not to sleep in my clothes like a trashbag, not on a Wednesday night. Ablution solution and now with clean teeth I type. I have notes and thoughts and stored words. I counted glasses and made table shapes in my mind. There were imaginary shards of flying glass and I pondered ways of busting through walls of metered rhyme. These things will wait, you will wait, until tomorrow.
It ended suddenly with my decision not to sleep in my clothes like a trashbag, not on a Wednesday night. Ablution solution and now with clean teeth I type. I have notes and thoughts and stored words. I counted glasses and made table shapes in my mind. There were imaginary shards of flying glass and I pondered ways of busting through walls of metered rhyme. These things will wait, you will wait, until tomorrow.
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