Wednesday, June 20, 2012

Six Plus Ten: Now, Wake


When I was young I used to sleep and wake up again.  Sheets would glow between sun and me, but then there was a delay. Pause. It was enough.

Radiohead played, and it’s complicated. The relationships, they are complicated. 

A riff. Okay, just one day. It was the best of funerals. White, as Greene would have put it. 
And I was sixteen. They only love you when.  

Don’t you think I, at least, deserve an explanation?
Very well.

I wore an X on my hand. And red over my mouth.

The urinals in Masquerade until the band died away.
So I could never figure exactly how again. 

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