Thru the rhythm of darkened times
Painted black by knowledge crimes
And repetitions pointless mime
Instilling values the sick define
That keeps the fabric that keeps you blind
And ties your hands and cloaks your mind
But on my stilts, I'm above the slime
Hell,o , and are you listening and are you sitting. This little batch of words are here to ferment and attempt to convey a wee bit of the recent goings on, Never got that bastard visa today, I think it was the gods. They high and michty demons from above, never trust the fucking gods. never. And here's me old enough now to know that much. So there goes a flight and here comes another night, stuffed into the Bogota stinky greasy cafe dorm.yeah And I know I could have changed that but I didny so go and suck some apples and don't lear at me in that old fashioned way.
I won't go easy on Ecuadorians . Why should I. They just ask for people like me to spread my miserable gossip all over town and all over anything I can find. And I'm leaving. Yes I'm leaving.
I'm going to immigrate emmigrate exterminate by the time I leave I think. Yep, Going to Immigrate. That's not where. Not a place. Couldn't care if it was if truth be told --and it always should-- Nope, not going there. Going to the south the far down deep down distant south of South America. To live to give to hopefully not become abusive towards the people I will be amongst.
But I need to bloody well get there before I can go blasting my mouth off about it. Got to get that pain in the arse visa from the bloody Ecuadorians so I can go get my stuff and my wife before taking to the road... long long road south to where seasons will become a feature again. to where reasons for living may become a feature again. But first things first. i'nt it. Visa..
Just an idea that you might want to be aware and let me share this state of affairs. And that's how it is. It's a short story. Not the best not passing the test. And I need a rest so off to eat and waddle down the cobbled street.
Off I go then
lovers
..ed
