today they're playing the songs that tug a little embarassingly at my heartstrings, mournful ballads of battleground infusions and whiskey breath demise. and today all the tourists seem to hail from far-off green places with more than a hint of twang; i can't stop staring at my new bike in the corner aching to be ridden but i can't help but picture it tearing through a different set of streets than these indifferent pavements.
she already had something going with her scooter by her side and her sparkly headband askew, but when she hocked a loogie onto michigan avenue she really had me hooked.
my thirsty throat needs more than this, and my trembling toes agree. i'm not really anything but satisfied, but this world keeps whirling a little too fast, and these long hours of elbows on countertops give me far too much space for projections. you know how it is.
& that fucking fiddle gets me every time.
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