wyndam anatole song

yesterday was too long for breaths, a clobbered hand (mine) keeps shaking hands keeps shaking hands and nodding heads and bouncing slow talk fast talk hand gestures wild like forrest fires and boundless into small crowds drooped eyes armrests so far away i turn down turn slow and let the wind low and out sweating steady streams (the heat is fucking killing me) but still keep on keep shaking hands and nodding head and shaking hands and nodding head and holding closed board-room meetings about upside down numbers turn it in churn it out a dozen roses falling from floor nine (i see it from the corner of my eyes) and stop to pick one and hand it to a passing elderly woman on my way to get another cup of coffee another hand to shake another head to nod----these days are tiring and good.

2004-09-05 | 2:32 p.m.
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