So musings talk to trains flying to Heaven
 |
| The ocean's tormented tears screamed with its lost pain |
So musings talk to trains flying to Heaven
Only on Saturdays..
.
A mind wonders to no destiny
Sees a park bench walk beside a football player on a camel
The ballerina smokes her cigarette
While Santa hides the bunny’s eggs
The soul flies from the fireplace
To hear
To sing
To laugh
The lonely bottle falls to a black grave
Despair smiles
With the tears and toilet litter of old musings
You see Stella
The ants in this town are just too big
Stella?
Stellaaaaaaaa…
It’s Saturday
 |
let's hear it for NewYork
|
T A McNeil.
TIME…The Book
June 3, 2011
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