damn he damn done left us
packed up and blew with the wind
and we know no way to see him again
and the sky everywhere tastes like pollution
from the refinery next door
where weeds, glass, crack vials, HIV, screams in the middle of the night and thugs grow and become all tangled in our sleep.
Writings by Esteban A. Martinez, poetry, fiction, rants, speculation and whatever else we want to call writing
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Where are you? by esteban a martinez
you will never hear my words brute tongue did not mean what it said i did not say that i am not good with words you will never hea...
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Wind Chapter One 2 days since christmas. listen to me good. the horse had giant nostrils shooting steam in t...
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love shouts with tiny hands at hurricanes and volcanoes destroys silences preceding creations and never shuts the fuck up
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i just want your mouth on my mouth your hands holding mine i’ve tried to explain to myself, my friends but no wo...
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