Fragment from Miami
I sing my song into a clear tropical night.
I’ll sleep the balcony
My friend lies asleep atop the sheets dreaming of cover shoots
Potions swirl through my blood and brain
My song comes back pure
And clean
This city loves me
Ongoing sporadic journal of the overeducated, and underemployed. The title derived from Coupland’s description of cubicle land; the corporate ghetto. Random photos and thoughts. Left the ghetto, never happier. This still a work in progress
Ongoing sporadic journal of the overeducated, and underemployed. The title derived from Coupland’s description of cubicle land; the corporate ghetto. Random photos and thoughts. Left the ghetto, never happier. This still a work in progress
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