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A Detroit Dream

2006-02-12 - 1:37 a.m.

And sometimes I wish I could listen to Windy and Carl all day, in my head or on some i-Pod.

And we could eat once a day. And listen to Seester regale us with stories of men doing strange things, and elephantitis of the nuts.

And I could drive you to work while I hit the town on a project for the city, and scrounge every burnt, wasted, rotted, destroyed, ruined, and forgotten section of the abandoned districts and scarred tenaments. I'd make misery beautiful with lenses.

And there'd inevitably be some leather-clad or bohemian young thing getting mixed up in all else. And the face would change sometimes, but it'd be an inevitable source of sex and amusing stories.

And I would lose track of time, probably only vaguely aware of it by how worn the Dennis Cooper books got.

And I think it'd be cool to roommate with my brother.

Perhaps not in this reality,
but there's one,
out there.

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