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Text of the page (random words):
my troubled mind confessions are self serving my troubled mind confessions are self serving poetry prose about art shop mad rush when all seems hopeless and the wind howls its lonely song and the ocean once a friend burns white each love is a dog from hell power drill solstice the moon sags over the harbour accusingly pregnant threatening violence another broken recordsweating winter solstice tent on a palleton the steps of the man who coughs you hear himfrom the bathroom windowhacking every three minutes or so for usit has become white noisealmost almosta comfort grip n rip grip the lamppost side on fit to rip it from the granite and begin spinning like a jō staff bleached out after toast and back after dark there s the somewhat dilapidated apartments greyspeckle aggregate each with a car a quarter century old sat outside proud as a shower the showerhead is a magnet attachedto a swinging armof a crane abovea scrapheap suckingup car cubes and it s so sad suitcase confetti a suitcase burston the bulkhead its contents confetti papers papersgift receipts train ticketsa sympathy card slicedaway and cuta child s cheek a blisters seagulls on a flat roofregal as robed caesars combine the wine garlic with the egg yolks and anchovy the hard generated title my amazon parcel lieson my doorstep like a fingerin the collar bone drones can t knock the packet turns from pineto to which i said nothing what i remember is the cockroaches and how no one ever told me they could fly i was trying to love poem gas stove tickssmell roasted coffeebury onion bulbsin garden soil holding fingerswearing jacketsthink of nothingeat roast potatoes black caramel cruston a the way i think about the way i think rush past the gauze bush blossomyellow on dark like explosive blasts frozenby the shutter and heatfrom the windscreen hand on the blacksmith the hammerthe horseshoe the iron the heat the barrel the water the rushing release the strain the brow the eyes something about butterflies always small rooms and square white places limited possessions gatheredup unpacked and packed again every few years you betsomeone probably things i remember from my parents divorce we were told in the garden upsteep deep crooked steps wellies dragged by clumsy feet grass dancing rainwater tea leaf the tea leaf swirlsout the spout birthedinto the mug it s amazingto see how it s grown i m so proudi could cry drive drilling into the barnyard dark probingout curves like a dentist diggingdown into decay workingup the other side of the valley dreams from a locked room collection available now my collection dreams from a locked room is available now here or navigate to the shop tab on this site not a preface to a 20 volume suicide note i am as brittle as a pane of glassshuffling down the same streetcreaking like a scarecrow come aliveas i stoop mouth of the mine the maw of the old mineshaft reminded meof the stove in mouthof an end of the line lush left gaping there glistening by bored kids post navigation older posts create a website or blog at wordpress com subscribe subscribed my troubled mind join 3 627 other subscribers sign me up already have a wordpress com account log in now privacy my troubled mind subscribe subscribed sign up log in report this content view site in reader manage subscriptions collapse this bar loading comments write a comment email name website