(spurned enclave)

My brain is the shred of a libertine left after the cold war took what remained of the petty bourgeoisie and turned it into a pipe dream for global capitalism and the rhetorical death of the lone fettered masses.

Sometimes i wish i was french. in principal, if not in practice as i know as much of the lay of that land as i do the bible belt buckle bursting under the strain of a fattened west expansion that killed the dignity of this land and made it something disney's mania could feed off in the posthumous lust of the grave...

Please pardon the rhetoric. fuck if i know where it's coming from or why my fingers can't stop the politik from seeping onto unread pages the world would see if only there were a forum more appropriate for the rumbling addles of a side-burned boy like me.

What am i saying? this is my venue. broke and anonymous. helpless and free.

But fuck me...this was a love note. written from sense memory just like every one i've rat-a-tapped out in the dwindling hourly rate of a hundred blinks a minute.

To no end but a glimpse of sweetness of what the future holds. what it's revealed to me in winks.

Those stolen kisses...