ditch,

the poetry that matters

Nathan Cole

Nathan Cole was born in Edmonton, Alberta and grew up in Kamloops, BC. He has taught ESL in China and is a  graduate of the Vancouver Film School. Is currently writing and filming in Kamloops.

eminate 

 

In the distance there is a subtle twisting of my thought. Can I be known to be heard or simply am, and am I able to reach that place for a dollar or less because that's all I have, and really what more could you ask for? Your place is the same as any other except it is yours. If I was there to help you move out, you may think me to be a friend, but is that fair? Like a kind apple will kill itself for your health, you've got to understand how their minds work or you'll never have their respect. I should know, I've seen it happen. But I won't talk about it, at least not to you.

Casual intros have been plaguing the tongue for some months now. A good remedy is to bleach it with sour and then lightly powder with a touch of sweet. Some people will tell you this is the way of the old, but I'm pretty sure it was invented by Thomas Baker in his laboratory (wherever that is).

Flounst, I cannot conceive. I've tried but all I ever get is static. Perhaps that's what they want me to think, so that I don't try it anymore. It's a ploy they have used in the past but it never really works, I don't know why they continue with it. Have you ever stopped to think about grabbing lost luggage? It's something everyone can do. One time I found a rainbow, but it escaped me when I tried to sell its organs on the Black Market. You can get almost 50,000 for its Trantaphone (located next to the Yopp, if you've hit the Brovak you've gone too far), but 50,000 what? So I have only this. X-rays. They are all I can project. For me they are more personal than anything you could imagine, but then again…Frank.

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