domingo, 14 de octubre de 2007

some standard

Tell me ten cents for why
And should this be a message for me
I'd reply through mailslot lids
And telephones
Wake up at home near an atlas and globes

Tell me trips ready
And then a second letter would tell her forget me


Another place and better
Ticket of inspection is the most social since early morning
With birds and sweaters

Running and jogging is possible two blocks down
Over the underground
It drops you off unfettered


Mr. Fixit

1 comentario:

desvalijados dijo...

are you thinking... or just singing?
I love it!