Location:Rye,ny
some people are young and nothing
else and
some people are old and nothing
else
and some people are in between and
just in between.
else and
some people are old and nothing
else
and some people are in between and
just in between.
Location:.. . Never know
THE BLACKBIRDS ARE ROUGH TODAY
Read until the end.
we might surely have some interesting
correspondence.
it will keep the mailman busy.
and the butterflies and ants and bridges and
cemeteries
the rocket-makers and dogs and garage mechanics
will still go on a
while
until we run out of stamps
and/or
ideas.
don't be ashamed of
anything; I guess God meant it all
like
locks on
doors.
we might surely have some interesting
correspondence.
it will keep the mailman busy.
and the butterflies and ants and bridges and
cemeteries
the rocket-makers and dogs and garage mechanics
will still go on a
while
until we run out of stamps
and/or
ideas.
don't be ashamed of
anything; I guess God meant it all
like
locks on
doors.
burning in hell
this piece of me fits in nowhere
as other people find things
to do
with their time
places to go
with one another
things to say
to each other.
I am
burning in hell
some place north of Mexico.
flowers don't grow here.
I am not like
other people
other people are like
other people.
they are all alike:
joining
grouping
huddling
they are both
gleeful and content
and i am
burning in hell.
my heart is a thousand years old
I am not like
other people.
I'd die on their picnic grounds
smothered by their flags
slugged by their songs
unloved by their soldiers
gored by their humor
murdered by their concern.
I am not like
other people.
I am
burning in hell.
the hell of
myself.
- Posted using Blog
this piece of me fits in nowhere
as other people find things
to do
with their time
places to go
with one another
things to say
to each other.
I am
burning in hell
some place north of Mexico.
flowers don't grow here.
I am not like
other people
other people are like
other people.
they are all alike:
joining
grouping
huddling
they are both
gleeful and content
and i am
burning in hell.
my heart is a thousand years old
I am not like
other people.
I'd die on their picnic grounds
smothered by their flags
slugged by their songs
unloved by their soldiers
gored by their humor
murdered by their concern.
I am not like
other people.
I am
burning in hell.
the hell of
myself.
- Posted using Blog
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