I can't get to sleep on these salty-stiff seamen starched satin sheets that they lay out for you in this den of banality. I feel like a trick for a lazy whore laying in this lie of room. All the amenities of a fictitious home from a world that never existed. The colors especially selected to lull one into a false sense complacency and ill comfort. All of it a delicate dance to keep you from wondering exactly how many strangers had exhaled and excreted and possibly expired in this most intimate of shared spaces.
I wonder at the cleanliness of the whole thing. Its someone's job to clean it all, but how many times have half-assed my way through work?
There is probably more UV reactive material in this twenty by twenty swatch of paradise then there is in a pot head's basement.
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1 comment:
There you go! That's what I'm talking about. I like this random bit a lot. Some keeper lines in there.
Slam something else out and entertain us!
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