i imagine
that i could go for some romance.
something like in these songs
people write about girls with long legs and young breasts.
something fast and electric.
i want to drink myself to death listening to music.
with scratches down my back.
killing me softly with this glass pipe.
maybe my ears will quit on the job.
and i wouldn't be interupted any further,
your stupid voice breaking my thoughts in half.
i would sing.
silently about girls in love.
and pretend to be attentive to your ramblings.
finally free, like that blood red bull
with the broken neck.
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