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Author: Franklyn Monk
The scars we try hard to forget
Cat Stevens hangs on with my favorite album, but Dance by Mutabaruka is my favorite song.
I embedded this one because cool slideshow, here’s one that doesn’t run forty-five seconds over.
cause out of de music comes de tinkin of de mind
an’ de people move on leavin nothin behind
de laughter an’ pain become as one
like de action of our ancestors risin from de lan’
But for the shame
That unimaginable horror show your asshole becomes when you’re a homeless broken poet. I could write about that.
Phew!
He studied the menu ordered received payed and consumed and nobody thought any different. They didn’t notice he thought in relief and shame.
Because I’m a Martyr (get it?)
You were always a better fan than lover. That’s harsh to say and possibly untrue. Probably unfair. But I can’t revise it. So I’ll havta let it stand.
Only problem is where I havta go to let it stand.
My feet slip in the mud and I bang my head on a brick and a torrent of water rushes the blood away.
Straining on tippy toe gulping water and balancing that pole balancing that pole balance that pole.