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Name: Kinkeade.


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Member Since: 9/7/2007

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Groups Blogrings (10 of 11)
Coffee and Cigarettes
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Nothing is as perfect as you can imagine it.
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Poetry Only
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Lesbians, Lesbians, and more Lesbians!
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drunk on the roof and yelling at god
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I don't need a life. I have good literature.
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I enjoy philosophical conversations while high
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the red in her paintings
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Vegan, but without the propaganda.
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dead poet's society.
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Thursday, June 18, 2009

Maybe I'm just wrong about you.


Monday, June 15, 2009

Project baby has gone well so far.
I can't seem to rid myself of insomnia,
though.
Missing my companion.
Schemes are being made. 
(And no, I don't mean my former unrequited -WHOSE GIRLFRIEND IS GOING TO BE HERE TOMORROW>ugh.)
> went carousing with H. today. We returned to Barnes & Noble for the first time since the October Running Incident. Got a book on gardening, tattoo magazine to wrap Baker's birthday trinkets, an orange cup, among other useful house hold items.
The sun is rising, and I am customarily without Baker.


Thursday, June 11, 2009

So far, as replacement smokes, I have tried: Newport Lights, Newport Mediums, Camel Menthol Lights, Camel Crushes, Marlboro Menthols, and now Marlboro Mediums.

Same coffee cup,
different hair do's
Cleansing is daily disruption
is imminent
She lived on the
same mountain
in the same climate
Her hands became soft
Her feet stuck to
dreaming nylons
Picking threads and hairs and
wild flowers.
She prays in lily petals
to invisible deities
Love's liquor, she said.
so wipe away your windows
and turn the knobs to cold.
Take a swelling swig.

Cleansing the same coffee cup,
different hair do's
sizing up the seriousness of a serial situation.
She fell of the
same mountain
in the same climate
Her hands became callused
Her feet freed from
dreaming nylons.


Monday, June 08, 2009

You slipped and told me you love me
It made me feel warm inside

and truth be told, I've almost accidentally said it a time or two,
but the words got caught in my throat

and I didn't say anything.


Saturday, June 06, 2009

Currently: Echoes: The Best of Pink Floyd
Life's lady is a tremendous viscosity of
inter-change able instances.
Bleeding sunsets and crouching bridges.
sloping claustrophobia to
sloping streets
(Dance with me sweetly,
sway with me neatly)
threads raveling against your enigma
and
darling, the sun's peeking past us again.
somedays, sundays & mostly days
are cruel, and crutches, and crushes
and messes,
stumbling shiftily(loftily)
through rain rivers
but you maintain shivers
Raise rivers (refreshingly)
Pocket watch hands are lost on
the
corner of
my newfound sunrise smile.



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