Creative Consciousness At Its Best! || Marie Kazalia <bgsound src="http://www.meetingofthemindsjournal.com/11thIssue/04.mid" loop=true>

Meeting of the Minds JournalMarie Kazalia

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Poetry Series

I could actually share my thoughts with People who work in-the-loop in old Beat bars think they are something. Abuse me now with their authority to 86 me. So I can write about them. They can't see I'm not willing to sell myself-- become who they tell me to be --succumb to their pressures. As a tour group oblivious to all else gathers around me seeking out Beat history and news of once local writers now dead. All seem to feel I'm nothing-- the way they observe, dismiss me from their thoughts and attentions. Yet I know that I am real.
the ambivalence of gift exchange She smears red Chanel lipstick on her fingers tapping her lips fake-yawning as I spoke to her across the barroom table she'd sat the glass of white wine down on. For me? She'd paid for, carried over from the bar, I hadn't even ordered. She'd come seeking a reunion I hadn't asked for, she insisted upon, to give herself further opportunity to behave badly, giving me all the wrong things, annoy me into giving her attention. But these ploys of hers did not work on me in the expected manner. Instead, induced me into ignoring her then avoiding her, even vehemently. I just had to...
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