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12.07.2008 From Dancing With Myself : Whiskey (adam fieled) I don’t think I know anything: look how the sun sets in March, a cool night, not dappled, not glazed, a construction crew in the street, grinding away at pavement. These are my worlds, alone, waiting to be born again into her, or you, if you want to read this: streets, walking, cool like a flaneur around a city I haven’t loved in five years. I know we’ll come together again, and if we don’t I won’t be to blame. Tonight’s for whiskey. Here is When You Bit... at The Poetry Library at Southbank Centre, London. posted by Adam Fieled on Sunday, December 07, 2008 Post a Comment
From Dancing With Myself : Whiskey (adam fieled) I don’t think I know anything: look how the sun sets in March, a cool night, not dappled, not glazed, a construction crew in the street, grinding away at pavement. These are my worlds, alone, waiting to be born again into her, or you, if you want to read this: streets, walking, cool like a flaneur around a city I haven’t loved in five years. I know we’ll come together again, and if we don’t I won’t be to blame. Tonight’s for whiskey. Here is When You Bit... at The Poetry Library at Southbank Centre, London. posted by Adam Fieled on Sunday, December 07, 2008 Post a Comment
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