In writing that she turned up and
Battered me, i work at an angle to a lined
Desert, is the oasis margin?
Still holding its own, doing a roaring
Trade...she would possibly reply
Just for men...a model from behind
I'd say, action replay
I'd say...and rise above a Greek
Ampitheatre
The two hundred or more steps makes my
Blood boil, i can imagine demolition, long weekends and
Being difficult
Producing it and checking it regardless of
The early hours spent working and
Linking cities of yellow through
The Bosphorus Strait
Great places these...where a young
Man could circle in late January whilst
Ousting the producers of silent screen
Mad week...crazy at work and
Outside of it too
'Nuff said
Etched into the dusty landscape
Of foolscap, the firefly is carrying
A true love and a burden
Things i like about myself
Things i don't...rockstar
Twiddle-thumbs is oblivious to
The banana skin threat and the cobbles
That guide his weedy frame
He's totally cabbaged to say the
Least, that soluble paracetemol is
Not the answer to his dropped fruit
The truth is, i'm scared...balancing
On walls and terraces always
Results in giddiness and a churning
Of the stomach, i am reliant
Therefore on obtaining a good position
With an early start and an
Even earlier arrival
Lucky guy
So lucky...no worries
Communications from the brewery are becoming a
Pain, i'll be glad to put a stop to it
There is a replaying in the mind of voices
Muffled, interspersed with delicate tutting, this is
A gentleness, like that of gangs, that mortifies
Its crescendo is two or three...no, it is many voices
In an already overcrowded hemisphere
I am all for it or
I am nothing