I am working on a rather long and complicated translation from the French Revolution which is taking quite a lot of my time and so, in the meantime and in order to not deprive you, I offer some table-scraps for your consumption.
Impoverished and insane — by God, let it rain.
The clouds dont ever fade,
I tell you - let it rain.
I will not dare refrain,
From loving you this way.
You know that I’m in pain — so by God, let it rain.
If things are not the same,
As if they ever were. . .
Impoverished and insane — I tell you,
let it rain.
☦︎ double 0, 3.5 ☦︎
I spend all my time here waiting
No one’s ever told me why
I spend all my time here waiting
Tell me, Mama, when I die
With aching back and bloodshot eyes
Tell me, Mama, when I die
I spend all of my time here waiting.
I had a dream there was a birds nest and a snake and a chipmunk, maybe?
The chipmunk (maybe it was a squirrel?) was being devoured by the snake - slow, sanguine.
The baby birds were dead in the nest, the mother was still alive - irreverent.
I cut my hair and it got in the blood and then I ate my hair.
All of this occurred on a tree of moderate size, in moderate weather, in moderate greenery.
I remember thinking it was a good dream.
- by M. Shultz