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Full Court ( page 1)

 

 

The cats Mary Mary.

Standing on the port side with a glass in her drunken hands – Shaking not stirred in a James Bond withdrawn daydream. Concessions to the codeine.

It’s every seaman as a football game – jockeying for a horse faced position that only a mother could love.

Mary Mary drunkenly dunking balls in full court crap piles and those good old days on hands and knees, when she was pretty and pimp fucked regular. Longing for those long nights of street corner companionship and 20 dollar love. Que forms to the right of the left hand side. Expediency with no thoughts toward any political leaning. Always considering. She thought herself more a social creature than a socialist, with not enough time spent in the hallowed hallways of academia. Gathering the dust of Baudrillard and Lotringer thoughts on a PhD. Everything works on paper but it is better to live chaos theory, a lackluster cluster-fuck of action/inaction or cause and effect.

 

Ripples of the thoughts from the port side.

 

Rebirth, reborn in some Egyptian ruins of the harlots image. This is a red letter day for the scarlet harlot in a blue denim mini skirt.

Work a day pestilence with calls for the gods and false icons of every worlds religion. A mosaic of mirrored windows, reflectingthe stained pain of the agonies committed in their names.Prying eyed informants and turncoats watch over the watch. The guards and parishioners queuing up for the who turns each other in for that final walk up those twelve step two step

 

Mary Mary from the port side view. Carnage and mayhem, the crap pile of her ruins. Such a long time ago the remembrances of her prettier days.

Reflecting and deflecting the barbs of passing carloads, drunken students,naive PhD’s that haven’t yet gotten with the programme and advocates who wish for nothing more than the continuation of the contamination . Roaring Idiocy of the raging idiots on street corner pulpits preaching to the great pious unwashed purveyors of back alley trades worshiping at the alter of the teary eyed. Blissing out on the Pimped out sacred and profane.

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