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23 December 2004 @ 03:53 pm
Poetry  
This is from an exercise we did in poetry class.
We had to write a line and then fold the page so it couldn't be read, and hand it to the next person.
The resultant mess of random lines was then re-worked into a more cohesive poem, but the original version, in this case, was by far the best.
I have retained the capitilisation and punctuation as written.
I'm not sure about the other authors, but the second-last line is courtesy of sinisterglint, and the last line is mine.



I wait for you at the boundaries of dream, all shadow wrapped
the 10km hub of prosperity
The dead of the night itches at my brain
Eventually life whistles a tireless tune.
I cannot go on drifting forever
re-enforced the wrong meaning
he scratches his testicles with lazy strokes
It was, at last, the final aching release.
 
 
 
Outlier Manlukeii on December 23rd, 2004 05:17 am (UTC)
It's funny because his brain is in his testicles
Robet Éivaayvah on January 2nd, 2005 09:48 am (UTC)
Or because his testicles are on his head... Or are his head...

[insert joke here]
Outlier Manlukeii on January 3rd, 2005 11:10 am (UTC)
I can't edit your comment to do that, sorry
Robet Éivaayvah on January 3rd, 2005 10:05 pm (UTC)
Well, use your imagination.