Off to Montreal to be a plumber it hit me like a shiny diamond: I have no fur coats to wrap my stability around. So, we shove hot coals into our pockets and pretend to be hired hands. So much trouble, so much trouble. They whistled contemporaneous at an incredibly low bray as to bring my crap to a frigid drawl. It was very dated and pathetic. I use to sweep at amazingly high chores with a love that only a serpent could know. Now the devils and deary me-me’s plant a brutal unknown that will curse you for years. You complain as the old nurses emaciate frumpy dreams while the aeroplanes scream new religions over skyward allow'd to capture the stillroom with actors and lovers in drag praying by the bedside. It is on the wince when the late day dangles you a midnight that you discover; You should have been a miracle worker. The plant has closed but the smell of old news still lingers round this tedious town and all that’s left are porches and trash-cans. Some day you will remember these small little moments like the time you forgot my birthday and scrambled small tiny trinkets from the local bodega. Useless things yes, but they hold such memories to me. You may laugh or cuss but soon these will be the only things you’ll cherish. It is the hard scowl when realized that you are dancing with the dead dog night as many things grab you at the four in the morning spin…. Trusted and chemical fitted to be something you wish to hold on to. To stagger home in the afternoon on the trail of tears is a fate worse than death. Pompous to the slammed world and awkward streets this is your last great call. It is as loud and thunderous as teddy-bears given to girls at late night pizza shops. Now you are really on the shuffling binge.
