Monday, October 16, 2006

Museum of Green Eyes

In the museum the woman
I thought the dance critic
The statues came to life.

The green eyes of the girl
Were windows with fire
Escapes in front of them.

The fruit of the poppy
After six days of work:
How did God know?

If God didn't want us
To smoke cigarettes,
Do you think wet

Dreams cause puddles
On sheets for no reason
Or what do you take me for?

Granted: I love it you love it
He loves she loves it
And for penance they do it, too.


Anonymous Anonymous said...

aye love it, lovely.

7:43 PM  

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