Saturday, December 03, 2005

He dripped sealing wax over the envelope
And sealed it with the thump of the stamp on it
and sent it to his love with a kiss
only to find her annoyed with the sticky
red substance that alarmed her
so she called the FBI
but dialed the wrong
number and got the IBF
instead so her whole house was restored to its
former glory and years of plastic
surgery kept her in roses
as unknown books flew in via the mailman
and kindness of the hand on the toll gate
of pride before abandoned old folk
who sit on rockin' chairs in the old yellow
afternoon sipping at a whiskey glass
forgot to fill it but came back for more
than a lasting impression
full of horned music
amd foul humour
she skipped to the dance of her ears
her listen to this old creeking chair
old aunt Harriet sits there thinking
who knows what is is thinkin'
all the way to the end
as she sits and rocks
the clock ticks on by
she sits and time
floats by with all her memories
leaving by the lines that form
on the dark ceiling


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