clean my curses, please have mercy.
I know a man from Kentucky.
let's take the subway home,
put Brooklyn behind us.
some sort of beatnik session,
I don't need to remember.
once again, your eyes
look good enough to eat.
the verses, the goat, the DJ,
the hole in the closet door, etc.
what the Devil wanted.
I wish I wouldn't have said a thing.
a jazz morning of movies,
the pretty weekend.
hopeless streetlights,
we ended up under them.