nobody remembers when i was a ghost or 
a glass or a clock-chime of the past
they only remember me as a cramp in their pelvis
and liquor games and confused velvet. delve in to
                                                               real realities
with me – not to care for possessions – sell everything

you could call me a bible thumper or cable jumper
and i am but i wasn’t until i’m now slightly other

don’t think of me as any strange un-living object
i’m just whatever you imagine – see how far i stretch


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