Days under carcass clouds
When mischief wind does its best
To cool love and trample hope,
We chose defiant laughter
Backstreet photographs
And underground poems.
We chose sacred noise;
Beauty in the city’s
Profanities.
We chose glamour visions
And the joy of our
Spacious spirits.
A second childhood
In the traffic’s
Vanishing moment.
Wednesday, 22 September 2010
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