correction mr.

try this again; it's been a while.

bucaholic

simply settled, it was like the degredation of the atom, on the roof of the car, watching the car jacked up and down. it was a summer's day, long as a snake, and almost as imaginary. i had hot pants on my nut-brown legs; they swung. there were cicadas; i sipped coke like a bird with a long beak. the sky was as blue as a probe. there was a jungle in my pants. my fingers were hot and brittle. the next day it all began over again.