I'm in no mood. . I'm in no mood to comb my hair. There's a chill in the air. And it's catching. Catching. . I'm in no mood to comb my hair. There's a chill in the air.
Last day in May, the afternoon: remember?. Black marks off charcoal from the dune: remember?. I thought it wouldn't be too soon; we'd wait at least until its June..
Guns Under the Counter. . "Well, good for you.. But we have something too.". So said my aunt. . A bowling alley and lunch counter. Filled with fellas on their lunch break.
Forty Eight Twenty Three Twenty Second Street. . Now, as for my aunt. Who told on me. . She was always wearing her turbans. . Sailing back to Greece on the Normandy.
In the back of a mini cab. Me and Georgie and Nigel and Sadie:. "Can I use your mobile?. Can I use your mobile, Sadie?". On our way to Shoreditch;. Off to Fabric in Shoreditch:.
Does it Remind You of When. . How the years have gone. It's come to this. A rose on his lapel, in the open coffin I'd give him a kiss. . I have to go up north to play at his funeral.
Back the bus he cussed "Space suits! Blackened boots!. Lad, little Lad," he sad, "I've a tip for you:. See, what about me: what about her? What about me?".
Later at lunch with the taco lettuce crunch crunch. She sets herself apart the bunch.. How bad does she seem?. She makes me wanna scream.. On the phone with the West Glen Ellen rest home.
I wanted to be a typewriter mender when I grew up,. But things didn't work out so. Sleep. Late in the morning, climb up Mt. Olympia and replace a Return:.
Borneo. . I was so bored with my old life. I was so bored with decent odds. . My new roommate left her debit card. Some sort of test for me. It's too hard.
Pontoon put-put with the tape on 10. Dixie cup pink wine in the Labor Day sunshine.. I'm sliding the sunfish up through the wakes. Coming up too quick, making mistakes..
Darling black-hearted boy. All the color's gone out of my ribbon loom. As i've only got the worst to assume. Take your sheet metal sheers. Cut a slit up the side of my dark blue dress.
Bitter tea. . I've got a special category business. Down by the multifunctional Dr. Sun yat-sen memorial rollerblade rink. Down by the home of bitter tea.
I hate the steam train that whistles woozy my bird brain,. That sends my spaniel insane.. And I'll stop riding side saddle if they don't stop the clickity clattle,.
A Candymaker's Knife in my Handbag. . A night out in the tropics. Turned out I couldn't cope. After the School of Fancy Cookery. With Antoinette Pope.
Going down Morgan with Janko, Jerko, and Jerry,. We downed our Pils, and over at the South Shore, they sipped their sherry.. I opened my Kaiserized speller to learn what they know:.