kisangani (kisangani) wrote,
kisangani
kisangani

Stetson pseudo-wisdoms

Warm Grail-blue mornings in the swamp. The legend moon has gone to sleep, ancestral dreams have faded away, and the day is a rock under the sky. The forest is a shadow by the atomic highway. Don Johnson Ikkyu, smoking cold rose cigarettes, watches Joseph sitting by the payphone listening to a satellite aubade.

This unreal romance.
Virginia, tonight.
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