on our beetle backs
under wet celery leaves
of tall bloody marys
i lick your toes
and you mine

a brave sun isn't it
to whip together
maine street and upper
manhattan

i camp out on my street corner
collect donated lipsticks
and pancake coupons
that people toss
into my banjo case

we can live on those
��smokes outside
and ihop syrup (boysenberry!)
inside where it's warm �

we can live on the corner
under the planes
in front of the train
sideways to traffic

nevermind the noise
let it blow up our skirts


� 2004 by PJ Nights