As if we were to lay ourselves Lonely he walks down the street lighting a cigarette, Not yet he says, pay now he says. Empty streets on this Thursday night expedition to the Jai Alai. As if we were to lay ourselves. This joint needs more sugar to be a cocoa puff, he stains his pants with the afterthought. Bitter drink, dip the spoon, pour the sugar...stir. On. Off. Sugar is sweeter, kittens and meatcleavers, I laughed myself to pains crawling on the floor like a new born babe Squealing about the next day, next day As if we were to lay ourselves. Writing the pen dips in the table's crevice <sounds like take five goes to the city on a single premise> the keyboardist lights up a ciggi the lights flash about piggy Put milk in our drinks, they put thoughts in our sinks, down the drain, down they flow Cobble stones loosen on traily roads. The cat's eyes sweep my ghetto uniform in their quasi ethnic secretary get-ups. Thirty year old has-beens that've been around too much so as to miss their train, so as to miss their age. I am twenty-three, I am forty-three sooner or later perceptions bleed (like most ink)... As if we were to lay ourselves. fin. _________________________________________________________ Enlighten your in-box. http://www.topica.com/t/15
