Houses for Cars
By birksy
A bent hinge, twisted, screamed into submission, and what it hid within, now gone, raced into oblivion. Nothing is left for these houses for cars, they now just take up the nervous space, one by one. And I cannot even contemplate what may become of them They all just seem so static, a monument to my anxieties. Written November 12th, 2001 © on Nov 12 2001 12:44 AM PST, Simon Birks 0 • 9
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"A bent hinge, twisted, screamed..."