it's raining and
the shutter sounds
fall down the street amid the glare
of sirens, horns and things;
the streetlight brings a shine to
eyes turned toward the corners
and away from all the shady stoops
where hooded people sit and mutter
things about the weather. What's the matter?
It's cold and damp and Barney's got the fleas again
oh darn, the rain and the wet and the bother
what's the matter with the weather?
Were it so dark that you lost your footing
soon you would be down there rooting
losing your fingers one by one
and the street would end as you go,
a cigarette end burning out in the snow.
You know, I lost one there.
Down on the corner of Mercer and something
don't you think that in this bloody cold it's
a blessing, a real blessing
to drift off into blood-soaked primeval night visions
of huskies and things
I wonder why the winter brings
this crazy feeling,
oh that crazy feeling.
Kathy I said
I'm cold and I'm aching and I don't know why
wear a fucking jacket, you stupid dipshit
four thirty pee em, diary.
two hundred miles it's mid afternoon and the sun is dark.
we huddle with our dogs in the never-ending blizzard
Morale is good. We are running out of food - might have to
kill a polar bear or two,
sometime next week. but I think we'll be alright,
I think we'll be alright.
adam
0 comments:
Post a Comment