Party up the hall dogs barking diana rearranges white peonies & a spilled vase monotone crouching in the corner with some one else's girl & see! the guy who came here on his bicycle why he's circling the building again no longer measuring or able to the hour in bloom when gravity pulls at things well children all this sweet fermented stuff so i look at you & you look back at me & luck points a silent finger cocks the hammers & the patrolman with his belt full of bullets flinches - why no officer nobody here did any complaining! George Wallace |