Monday, January 16, 2006

Corollary

The kinda grammar u usedWas not unlike the way u listened to yr music Rock n’ roll was on records and towering speakers.Hip-hop was on tape. In huge fucking boomboxes. On the corner under the blue streetlightNow you’ve got the illusion of a private languageWith ear buds in deep and hoody pulled low.Music for Playstation.For pimped ridesFor oozing out of the pore-size speaker holes in the

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