we put the fun in funeral

Saturday, July 22, 2006

my phone cuts out in the same place every single day ("the gospel of gossip").

it feels like there is so much to say.
but it can only be said in songs.

please dont go so quickly.

"The city with fires of night seemed an archipelago
    Women asked the love and for the dulie
    But in my eyes of male horror I remember
    The busy ones of the evening were never pretty

    Then the day returned but sometimes without sun
    To draw up the houses coast at coast at the edge of the streets
    Where our lives with the other similar lives are mislaid
    Lives trailing their shade while passing in the street

    Intercalated in the year they was widowed days
    Bloody and slow Fridays of burials
    White and whole blacks come from the skies which cry
    When the woman of the devil beat her lover"

guillame appolinaire

send me a flashlight. i cant seem to find my faith.