I like the sound of people going away…been practicin since I was a kid.

With headlights, and lightposts

watching the rythmic scan at my little feet

like an MRI…

the feeling of leaving,

picking a car and creating the distance as we drive away

me in the backshield of a lime-green Plymouth Duster

and going away,

at six…

no alcohol, no tobacco, no narcotics…

virgin child…knowing

what was going down.

Im 38.

Ironic.

My practice was Iconic.

So grab yourself by the chi

and no regrets,

nothin pisses me off more than PUSSY POETS.

(sod off in advance wanka)

maybe ill see you later.

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