The Holydrug Couple - Noctuary - Counting Sailboats
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Everyone has a preference. Two-ply. One-ply. Scented. Patterned. Baby wipes. Same shit, different day. You say tomato, I say potato, fries and ketchup, let’s be friends come on let’s dip. // Virgin mary candles, empty glass jar cups, weathered non-glare glasses that no longer go without the glare, dirty fucking keyboard, Macbook Slo, paint chips and woodgrain, morning breathe and hot glue sticks, leaning lamps, and broken mirrors, five ashtrays one smoker, red white or whiskey doesn’t matter just pour, the squirrel made a mess of the trash on the deck, recycled love, paused just hit play again, same song, no cover charge, nine old men and two banjos, she emptied the garbage from her purse onto the table burying the check that the waitress had just left, she also stole the nutrasweets from the table and put them in her purse, a penny saved is a penny earned she thinks, but she still has to tip out, they congregate every Monday, select the same compositions and in between each song he tells another joke or story, half of them laugh, the other half can’t hear or choose to act as if they cannot, our whispers were welcomed and our claps even more, the soup was great, homey, we felt at home away from home, we drove into the city to get away from it, that is how you get shit done, go head first into it to get to it. almost absolutely.