watching the storm moving on, there's a strange song playing on the horizon a special request on the world's 24 hour devastation radio network I live in a disappointed land, lawless since you've gone making way for a dilapidated governance of the mind depressed or inebriated always our language is wet and dripping with the perspiration of words used so often that they no longer have meaning ( I miss you ) now I am used to this unpretending silence you call it the calm before the storm and I, the fury of an unemployable friendship as the rain falls, I take comfort in the release of tears I refuse to cry the storm is moving eastward--maybe it will find you should you care enough to listen a while instead of seeking shelter1 responses total.
oo, "unpretending silence," spiff.
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