Untitled Poem #1
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Coma sky,
cloudy days,
coming round for serenades,
blank room stalkers, cellular waves,
the IC tramps in drunken haze.

She drinks it down on the town,
he drinks it down on the town,
they drink it down on the town,
Jack's so lonley, the asprin gaze.

(so) Get me to the other side,
other sides of theory's mind,
gotta find an alibi,
for a girl like i who builds dismay.

Wary the speak,
Wary the day,
Wary the speak,
Wary the day...

Swallow your slogan.

// John Parks April 10 2010 
//	In an alley out back of the Mill in Iowa city 
//	with a Deer Tick concert being set up. 
//	Edited April 12 2010