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Death in an agricultural town
Splintering
The Drowning braid
Fire drill
Orchids and Sandcastles
Fallen amber
Hey Hey Whiteboy
Daughter
Towing Jehovah
Lacerate
Pain
Redneck
Shafted of my social weaponry
The sons of the Catfish
The same
The Red Spring Heron
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| TOWING JEHOVAH |
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| Their bellys,white and virginal pumped the thick opiate goo through the buildings, the flow fed by the lost children so disturbed that they could no longer make conversation nor could they ever hope to enter into"civilised" society,the city glowed yellow with their sickening hatred as if its liver had died, street lamps peeling layers of concrete from the walls with their unrelenting disgust, layers of glass upon layers of glass line the filthy streets displaying screens displaying drab characterless clothes or simply displaying the items of clothes themselves,the leaf-like veins spread accross the street , blue and purple against the pissy brown flooded sewers that form the citys many walkways, red light eminates from every basement room, more like a cage with its ceilings made of steel mesh and neither dry nor flooded but sickeningly uninhabitable, it is not under the town hall but in one of these rain filled rooms that the heart of the city beats furiously like some bloated creature from a childs vision of what a mental hospital might contain, it crys,it sings it begs for release, its arteries patched up for the thousandnth time by the suited men with the flashlight eyes. the flags along the street defiantly still flying even after their use now no longer needed and without seemingly any wind, just a steady spirit breaking flow of rain as if god was arched over the city teeth drawn back arms wide and hands in claw formation throwing down every piece of spite he could muster. the whole city like an old bus station except the flows of blood and poisoning opiates feeding the fetus buidings deafening, no roads just sewers splitting into one another like streams running thick through the center of each street and the concrete rabbits where the children play covered in lichen and crumble and crack,the children,blinded by their parents will grow to appreciate the protective cradling of their mothers and long for it again. |
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