Concrete Stagnant Air

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      concreate stagnant air - craig daniels

It gnaws at me, the stagnant air. And I chew at it, hoping to lessen it’s weight pressing upon me, surrounding me, scrubbing my unconsciousness sores till even casual onlookers can see resentment tattooed on my face. And believe me they’re looking, some even ogling as I pass by on my walk, to I don’t know where.

existing this moment upon unforgiving sidewalks

rolled out concrete ribbons continuously

rising up to slap me with loneliness, sucking life

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Lingering Taste

      lingering taste

 Feeling crept into awareness, subtle flavor I nearly missed lingers on my tongue. Alone I stand starring at the mirror, my face starring back at me. Flushed red frowning, puffy anger clinging to cheeks like rusted barnacles, all this I feel from the emptiness surrounding me, when your not here.

My imagination is pulling away from reality so quickly. I am sure my mind is beginning to resemblance a dirty clothes hamper, tangled and rotting from within.

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Running Barbasol

The razor’s dull blade chafed skin beneath snow white Barbasol mimicking the unevenness that marked my failed life. Each nick reminding me of dreams long ago blushing pregnant, with promise. How I’ve wished to join those vanquished hopes following them down the drain of my corroded mind. Routine has become a prison and I have …

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There Was A Knock At The Door

[podcast]http://www.washthebowl.com/wp-content/uploads//2009/07/therewasaknockatthedoor.mp3[/podcast] Startled minds ramp into flaring comatose consciousness, jump starting sight, adjusting hearing, grabbing the one next to you, shaking her, wake up wake up something’s happening here. There was a knock at the door, a knock at the door, there was a knock at the door. Emotions spinning me into torrid thoughts, whirlpooling down …

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Magic Glass

Carlos carefully flicked the squeegee, removing the last drop of dirty water from the stores front window, he smiled and turned to breathe in the fresh morning air filling his lungs with the cities pulse, he crossed himself and opened his store. “Wash the windows everyday Carlos” his father had told him, “do this and …

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