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Random First Lines:how can a man get his hands on thirteen million dollars? this is one way. » Read
Not so much a poem but textual translation and descriptions of sensations one might feel or imagine when indulging entirely in electronic music.
By Patricia Mcgurk Martin
My Pat is disappearing in me because of the torture
My Beloved always did disappear, even though I hold me in the cold air conditioning of the mental hospitals, institutions and frigid jails and pray inside my unresponsive skin.
Believing somewhere I will walk and hold my Beloved,
I will find...
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By Jak Sylvian
As I haven't been doing poetry enough to have developed a "style" to to speak, I thought I might play around with a different style of poetry from my usual.
Maybe this should be an advert warning against the dangers of night-shift work mixed in with Red-Bull type drinks!!!