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I have restarted work on Blond leading the blond. Almost 2 years have past since Monica’s passing and I figured it was about time I started to write more of this piece. first edit so I hope it isn’t too awful

.To continue this insane clarity of thought that pours Florida rain; racing towards worlds end- inverted inventions on clockwork tik tok. Those standing waters of Jaxport lanes; abandoned to salted sewage/runoff
-rundown – Flag Land purification facility of the I 95 boiled peanut stands.
Strange wanderings of mind and souls vacant – these Orange Park groves grooving to the deserted disco era tech.
These are the out of my mind outta sight blond baby blue years.
Out of the shadows the boardwalk sands that fuse the walkways and towers of old terminals still connected to the supply; casting insane backgrounds of sound vibrating the lights of rebellion – read write- Today I wrote nothing over faded Waffle House posters.
Yes it looks the same on a Saturday night-
tik tok – a tidal bore of undercurrent events – illuminated by the crayfish cookout and swamp gas hallucinations –
Redneck re-inventions of the forlee – piers one of ten bayou extensions – Clock on – tic tok like work heard I am … clock shop talk. Meander board boardwalks of ghostly souls – populate –
Snowbird havens of unsold souvenirs . The Jaxport heyday of orange juice stands on peanut parkway of the Jacksonville Tampa St. Petersburg; Clearwater Bay – Glittering jewel of Scientology strippers lap-dancing for the cocaine purification rundown, pills from the Elron Cupboard of travolting travelers on the infiltrated Inter-coastal viaduct waterway. Dredging up the past of perfect consummate consumers staring blankly at the display purposes only – Waffle House overture –

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