Subject A Obliterates

A Little 24 hr Autism In The Night...

Thursday, June 01, 2006


From the very edge of Coker, going outwards across Dead Dog Back and then right around the U-bend by The Inn, there’s a circumference that traps them all. It’s a shodded line, a pulmonous vein that wraps right the way from heart of the town and riddles with cancerous youth (smart boys from the farms kicking their heels and rubbing headblots with their friends). I’ve lived at the Inn on the Lake for seven Summers now (I was born in the same room as my parents sleep now, shat down onto the carpet like a thick slice of raspberry crumble).

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