| all my friends are poets | ||||||
| I'm getting impatient, honey! I wandered around your neighborhood
last week. The buildings were all too tall. How can you see your own toes? It hasn�t rained in weeks. They�re killing the weeds so they won�t catch fire. When the husband brings his briefcase to the matinee with his wife, and the wife is still learning to crochet. The depots are just depots. The lawns are just crabgrass. Did you hear about the Girl Scout who was kidnapped selling Thin Mints? The Wolinskis live there now. She�d almost had her cadet badge, too. O happy day. Our sins way. Spare me the lecture, honey. I hear the pension is good, but the unions are better. When the windsocks won�t make decisions and everybody thinks I should hide the photos. Augmented chords are too much now. Who has time for pants and conversation? Who has time to mow the rocky lawn or consider the dry sky? Who cares? I don�t break these codes for nothing. Honey, lighting your cigarette feels like making you come. I don't have time for arches and whorls. I don't have time for your dry skies. No, those are oysters you�re thinking of. I know I try too hard. What now to keep from quaking. |
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