Smarmy Alligator

Politics, pop culture, and self-deprecation

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“I take a breath,

pull the air in til there’s nothing left.

I’m feeling green,

like teenage lovers between the sheets.

Knuckles clenched to white

as the landing gear detract for flight.

My head’s a balloon,

inflating with the altitude.

I watch the patchwork farms

slow fade

into the ocean’s arms.

From here they can’t see me stare;

the stale taste of recycled air.

Calm down, release your cares;

the stale taste of recycled air.”

-The Postal Service

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Written by laura k

August 24, 2003 at 2:44 am

Posted in Uncategorized

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