You can dream me up if you want. Like some muscled demon two fisting beers, with sideburns like knife slashes, the top flat and bristled up, the eyes encased behind one way mirrors, ready to explode geyser like with the vengeance of the exploited. I’m down with the trodden and machine like in my loyalty to the written, once bitten, twice the size of the next guy in your mind. Bring it on. It is the only way I can be sure this dream is real. The taste of blood…
1 comment:
steve meet steven
http://xmascats.blogspot.com/ I explain (or don't explain) the introduction under the comments of his last post. Sorry, if I'm stepping on toes. I just enjoy both blogs so much. Thanks, you are both clever young men. And I'm going to be away from blogger for awhile..keep writing.
Post a Comment