Hana steps out of a storm. Into a stranger's warm, but. Hard-up kitchen.. She sees what must be done. So she takes off her coat. Rolls up her sleeves.
When Charlie speaks of Lester. You know someone great has gone. The sweetest swinging music man. Had a Porkie Pig hat on. A bright star. In a dark age.
He is three. One's in the middle unmoved. Waiting. To show what he sees. To the other two. To the one attacking--so afraid. And the one that keeps trying to love and trust.
I have to come and see you--. Maybe once or twice a year--. I think nothing would suit me better. (Right now). Than some downtown atmosphere .... In the dance halls and the galleries.
Silver drums, rhythms that he hums. Waltzing dogs that come when he calls. Plans for one he keeps in a coffer. What can I offer, I don't know. . Can I bring him, love words to sing him.
Write me a royal-blue parchment poem. Draw me a royal-blue lady like me. Draw me a smile. That's a lot like my own. . And make my eyes flowers. And make my mind see.
Old Beale Street is coming down. Sweeties' Snack Bar, boarded up now. And Egles The Tailor and the Shine Boy's gone. Faded out with ragtime blues. Handy's cast in bronze.
I heard it in the wind last night. It sounded like applause. Did you get a round resounding for you. Way up here. It seems like many dim years ago. Since I heard that face to face.
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I can't decide. I don't know. Which way to go?. The options multiply. The choices grow. Which way to go?. What should I buy?. What should I be?. Which way to go?.
I slept last night in a good hotel. i went shopping today for jewels. the wind rushed around in the dirty town. and the children let out from the schools.
I went so numb on Christmas day. I couldn't feel my hands or feet. I shouldn't have come. She made me pay. For gleaming with Donald down her street. She put blame on him.
Hot winds and hunger cries--Ethiopia. Flies in your babies' eyes--Ethiopia. Walking sticks on burning plains. Betrayed by politics. Abandoned by the rains.
The minus is loveless. he talks to the land. and the leaves fall. and the pond over-ices. she don't know the system, plus. she don't understand. she's got all the wrong fuses and splices.
The big man arrives. Disco dancers greet him. Plainclothes cops greet him. Small town, big man, fresh lipstick glistening. Sophomore jive. From victims of typewriters.
Rain comes from the east one night. We watch it come. To hang like beaded curtains. Till the morning sun. Water dripping from our clothes. You with raindrops on your nose.
It's a long, long way from Canada. A long way from snow chains. Donkey vendors slicing coconut. No parkas to their name. Black babies covered in baking flour.
I'll get along. Forget about me. Just be happy my love. . Let's say that our little show is over. And so the story ends. Why not call it a day the sensible way.
Everything comes and goes. marked by lovers and styles of clothes. things that you held high. and told yourself were true. lost or changing as the days come down to you.
Don't interrupt the sorrow. Darn right. In flames our prophet witches. Be polite. A room full of glasses. He says, Your notches liberation doll. And he chains me with that serpent.