The Aged Khan Contemplates His Scotch

Asia was not shaped for easy conquer – the infinite steppes can be held no longer than a fist of dust or sand and dirt and both are probably nearly worth the same – nothing. A pale something to stain the palm and then be gone a long shower later. You are also not especially shaped for being anything but gone – master of arrivals, champion at moving on; I am cold and crunchy flavored and dream of having Asia affixed to a black ring that I will give you if we make it. I’ve no faith it’s anything – there’s too many roads that lead into the sacred heart of asia with a chainsaw and a truck, blasting mono fm radio and getting you to fuck them so you each feel some emotion, for a second, hopefully. The truth is that in Asia there’s too many roads that lead me to a black ring in my pocket and a girl I’ll never see – it is a shape unfit for conquer, when you get it, you no longer even have it as you had it from the mountains to the sea. You don’t even mind if I’m trying to be sweet; I can’t stop thinking about Asia and knowing there’s defeat riding in on every road – so I’m not trying to go – I’m looking out my window, I approach the door real slow and see my own face in the window and think of you a bit. I think of you every 6 seconds I smoke each of my cigarettes and forget Asia wasn’t made for conquering unless you don’t mind losing.


~ by perfectionatrix on October 9, 2011.

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