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Aimless meets Fungus
 
Iíve lived on different streets.
They are foreign to me. I walk
past buses I could have taken
just because.
 
I go West then North and know
that at some point Iíll arrive. I
know I can get anywhere
from here. My mind tips
 
from one city to another.
Itís the same city. Iíve moved.
I live with a rocker-youth I hope
will move out before I do.
 
The room had black mould I
hadnít noticed when I said
ĎIíll take ití and that one new
coat of emulsion is not enough
 
to stop Fungus punching his way
through in stoic announcement. I feel
it blistering in various corners; I donít
know how many I am sharing with.
 
 
 
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