The numbers stress and pour. Your
corporate sponsors, sir, miss
these. And when we mention the
trading shack of love,
buoyant oh, and the
reading list thru tears or the
next day. Such poems of
dignity store of
lifting touching moments past
the asking price again, a smoke
of diatribe to stick with
language. Too many leave and
too many leaves. Then the further
smoke of cross across the street,
narrative Nazis who believe
the line between us. These numbers
have no brain, with screams
and extra charge of dictation.
The words are in us,
always. So with this, and
this, the movie set and
transforming invaded,
only ones can save us. Spring
diplomatic wait
if you can ask me.
