Morning Paper
Eric Trondson-Clinger

Now being that far for the walk of the morning paper it's got to be the hard sort of time to be goin for that sort of thing, ya know? So I sit here and type my woeful night away but at least I had a nap. The most beautiful achy wonderful soreness to sit and smoke in enjoying the harshness and going back to the wonderful comfy confines of the bed. And I don't know right now. I'm about to go to awayness in the America Capitol of the World and be lost in all patriotic gladness. Thankfulness proudness of the beauty land. Stop you bitchin mutha. Ok I won't swear At least not right now for now is the night time comin' and at least I don't have to go to my Long day listen of the FUCK YOU MIKHAIL. jesus. I can't stop. What a fuck tho.

Anyway all y'all This is the time for all good men. Yes. I've got to stop that for it's going down this longful hall and tearing apart this fabric. That sad lateness of fabric. Cotton woes in the sweaty wait of night for the sleep to ignore the sweat on my brow. Mister Manyal. Uh, yah. So now the bright hot and not so great parts of this time. But it cools down always. So I have to pee. Ok no. But damn what to do with this blank whiteness of my age and page. The gray I can feel you comin' big boy. All not new but there's always the excitement of the lovey. Loveys. The rhythm is the conduit. Boomin by fat gut trembling and wasting down. But that not the everyday. So Yeah. I got the high density Mikhail. Call this bitch! Ok stop it what got that into it again. Ack.

The beautiful Jew but no the goddamned spanish andalusian way of all my respaining ways. Ah janine. But Lisa. That not the good name. So Ann. There's your youth boy. Let's stay home and plan the drapes. Got to get out to Mister America DC I should ask him what it's like for it's been long time you know. Tenth grade. I sat there alone in the subway of my band. Nothing happened. Why don't band kids drink. They should they would be rockin all over those choir fucks. Ah... Mid morning respites in the room just sittin thinkin about it all. Dancin. Fred Astaire. Rest in peace dear sir and don't forget your wonderful songs of all youthful kick backin'. So yeah. I guess that's all there is to that shit. But goodnight. You wonderful lady of my fingers. I love you baby.

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