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Proseful Poetics: “The Grind” on Saturday March 7, 2005

Posted by Matt Hurst in Uncategorized.
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Down to “The Grind” on a Saturday night
To play the part of the cultured socialite;
The buzzing atmosphere dispersing from
coffee in this social symposium.
The cups are filled, music paints the scene
Though it lacks a cigarette vending machine
to serve those drawn into the smoke
Served with conversation in which they choke
On obscure references
and obtuse sentances;
I like that sort of thing.

The conversations drawn must be plied
from thoughts made returned in kind;
And in equal parts caffine and nicotine
We decide what is schoe and what is fin.
Nary a moment of steady hand, though they are shaking
In embrace of those known and though to be interesting
Those inside “The Grind” are in fact self-interested
As they cling to their wounds that are self-inflicted
Projected to others
underneath their covers;
I too exude these things.

In comraderie only in their own supposed independance
They flock to “The Grind” migrating towards interdependance;
The children of this paternal form cultural scene
Yearning to break free to fly from that which they cling.
But never sure what is left outside as alternative
To that they fleed first from during their formative
Time working against them but they’ll come back again
To “The Grind” where they’ll try to meet their friends
For years of their life
on Saturday nights;
I fear these kind of things.

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