From “The books of Albion” by Peter Doherty.
In relation to her gains, to her sexual harvest.
Did a content person achieve anything except his own smug expression?
From “The continuing adventure of Spaniel O’Spaniel”. (Part II, at the Careers Officer’s.) (Peter Doherty)
In his passion, only a passion for life, he would, with deliberation, never hurrying, deliberately, get the words wrong.
Mr … breathed a sigh of despair.
I am quiet and lonesome, and full of heavy mercury, industrial melancholy. I have patience without insight and insight without care for coherence. I love without the use of any organs. I make music in my head and wish that I was dead.
When I’ve become immune to my own instincts.
When I know for a fact that the days in the sun were allusions. When I see the tears & tears in my proud father’s coat, When my Saviour, my Lord, the one who promised me life is drinking in Stepney with his soon to be wife, then, sure as McFuckety, It’s time for death on the stairs.
Somewhere I like the words, somewhere the ideas.
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