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The last section of Frailty of 1

It’s all about time, just wait and listen for it; that will be your cue to break out into dance.

This or that, It is a nasty dirty town. No longer can you tell this smog from those clouds. It’s not that there has been any concern. Just nasty nasty dialing 911 for air traffic control. Just the nasty watching a replay of Nagasaki. Nag Nag Nag nightmares revisited on the delayed replay of the news at ten. Pick a poison and perform for me.
Monkey boy disguised, Mary Mary unused.
Emerge from the protoplasm of time. Emerge from that Trotsky pole hole in the neck.
There are no laws when wealth creates a ghetto. There is no crime greater than envy. History is an atrocity flickering on broken open reels.
Politician have grown fat and dreary, So pick a poison and perform for me. Fresh decay for the day. A decadent decay of the decent descending into the abyss of repressed desire…contradiction! Dive into the fuck and fuck baby.

Waiting for the ball to drop, Writs from the command line. Walk walking to the old Frazier and Atlantic ave. studio turn televised bar for the west end television set. Myopic … no vision. Evisceration is it’s own reward. Do ya see what I’m saying? Need a patron to eliminate the work of this dirty nasty town. West end high noon westerns flicker baby on the big screen, there’s no time to mourn the modern atrocities. Blow back at six and ten.

Sitting on top of the world views watching the flames fanned. Higher and higher grow the voices of the adequate and the condemned. Forgotten political prostitution with match point penchants. Just waiting for the writ to drop. Lead weight dead weight. A big splash for the wait hate.

Can smell the decline. The rot that permeates everything. Internal morals crumble like the terracotta displays of the punk turned lawyer. A 5 o’clock pop tart looking for a little midnight madness. Obliteration has it’s own rewards. Point match point for the Mary Mary of the West end whine and cheese set .
Drop waiting for the ball to .
Reconcile the retribution…left in the dirty syringe filled stairs, piss and puke stained broken forgotten to memories rekindled as living celluloid.
Shine on celluloid, dreams that flicker in the black. Rock out to that heavy forgotten beat Hallucination dissociate recreate. Celluloid back lights integrated hallucination playbills, a handbill, a sump pump.
A two plus two too many fucked up prophets of death … Deal this.