and sell it, save it for another time

Can�t remember the last time
it happened like this
just river and out
in no time flat
I�ve got pages and pages worthy not worrying about
and that,
as you know,
is the best kind of all
or suddenly
you get the idea
I just fold arms in and put it all down
for earthen days and cold mist stares
clay drawn in and arched out
molded sittings
in stairwells
and armpits sweat
but nothing more than happiness tells us all so perfect
just act like nothing
and you�ll be more
so like a man said
the servant of all and so forth
I keep this story sacred and beating like an old harp heart and
harmonica for the new york times
just keep you safe, I beg.

2004-01-06 | 1:51 p.m.
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