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[personal profile] aslant
last night i dreamt of a.

in a stairwell of grafitti i climbed up and up and then entered his apartment. he slept. i wanted to crawl into bed with him but he woke suddenly and moved defensively under the covers, shying away. there were racks and racks of poetry zines. he was also km, j's brother. people came and went, walking through with bottles and knives. i handed him a hammer and nails; i kissed him from a ladder. kid rock handed me tape with a smile and sat me on his lap. everywhere in this dream sex and more sex:

like an undone track: a vine gone wild. erotic dreams that wake me and break me.

today i call the cancer institute, and maybe get an interview.

on the bus into south station, this written on an underpass: all along. we are all alone. stark black letters.

i dream of grafitti? it is because i miss it terribly in this antiseptic boston. i miss pasquale from florence, his socialist missives in red stencil paint.
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aslant

July 2013

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