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[Jul. 12th, 2017|04:53 pm] |
fragile paradise (middle-aged-man blues)
parāk skaista diena: work chained me to the computer, but the view outside was super. In bloom and beautiful, my youngest and my wife darzā: full yet part of the analogue ticking and slipping of time. Maybe the sun has retired warm and modestly in some secret part of the soul from my stepson yesterday - tipa "Eu.. bet tev nav kaut kāds pārmetums sev - par to kā tu man audzināji? Well, eye contact on the potatoes and carrots I'm peeling, I murmur an apology of sorts. "Nē" vinš teica, "paldies tev, ka biji ar mani visu to laiku". Blin - -asaras varētu fall in the sink. Twenty years since I first rolled the tarmac here: already in love - that much was clear. The sun setting orange over the fields: a tired caress. Picked my eldest meita and stepson at midnight vakar: he with a flat tyre rode back to his flat, she stretched with window down informed about the concert: all that IDEA growing in her: pouring out of her: smile and cackle, roll and rustle: parāk skaista dzīve. |
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Comments: |
Tas nekas, Proletariāts atzīst.
| From: | lennay |
Date: | July 13th, 2017 - 09:15 am |
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Vai ne
| From: | lennay |
Date: | July 13th, 2017 - 12:20 am |
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Čau, proletariāta dzejniek!
| From: | dooora |
Date: | July 16th, 2017 - 11:47 am |
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Vakar par Tevi iedomājos. un šodien cibirthday kalendārs vēlreiz pieminēja ar labu vārdu. Daudz laimes!
Oh! Paldies, doora! Buus jaasatiekas kaut kad. | |