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Created by Sojournals Jun 22, 2008 at 2:08am. Last updated by Sojournals Jun 22.
Let's set up a time to meet in the chatroom! any suggestions? some folks wanna make a lunch date? after work jont-jont? late night? Throw some times out there and let's make it happen! I would... Continue
Created by Guerilla Arts Ink. Apr 27, 2008 at 10:17pm. Last updated by Guerilla Arts Ink. Apr 28.

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Good to see you on the boards.
Youalreadyknowwutitis...
Have to leave my mark....
-Kso
Earth Moves
Shine
To Assist
In
Reflection
Occidental College, 1982
Occidental Weekly
POP
Sitting in his seat, a seat broad and broken
In, sprinkled with ashes,
Pop switches channels, takes another
Shot of Seagrams, neat, and asks
What to do with me, a green young man
Who fails to consider the
Flim and flam of the world, since
Things have been easy for me;
I stare hard at his face, a stare
That deflects off his brow;
I'm sure he's unaware of his
Dark, watery eyes, that
Glance in different directions,
And his slow, unwelcome twitches,
Fail to pass.
I listen, nod,
Listen, open, till I cling to his pale,
Beige T-shirt, yelling,
Yelling in his ears, that hang
With heavy lobes, but he's still telling
His joke, so I ask why
He's so unhappy, to which he replies...
But I don't care anymore, cause
He took too damn long, and from
Under my seat, I pull out the
Mirror I've been saving; I'm laughing,
Laughing loud, the blood rushing from his face
To mine, as he grows small,
A spot in my brain, something
That may be squeezed out, like a
Watermelon seed between
Two fingers.
Pop takes another shot, neat,
Points out the same amber
Stain on his shorts that I've got on mine, and
Makes me smell his smell, coming
From me; he switches channels, recites an old poem
He wrote before his mother died,
Stands, shouts, and asks
For a hug, as I shink,* my
Arms barely reaching around
His thick, oily neck, and his broad back; 'cause
I see my face, framed within
Pop's black-framed glasses
And know he's laughing too.
UNDERGROUND
Under water grottos, caverns
Filled with apes
That eat figs.
Stepping on the figs
That the apes
Eat, they crunch.
The apes howl, bare
Their fangs, dance,
Tumble in the
Rushing water,
Musty, wet pelts
Glistening in the blue.
Her CD was playing when I wrapped my car around a tree last fall. I was singing and it was raining hard. Hold up, that's not the truth. I was singing hard and it had just rained. Anyway, her album is the only album that I've ever replaced once it was lost. It's still in the disk changer (#4).
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