maanantaina, marraskuuta 06, 2006

Canadians don't cry

Whose hand is this?
Who's holding my bra?
My napkins were drying on a towel fence,
the sidestep walls fell from a bench.
Rigid as was the nunsense goodness,
the heads felt alone and the ZAPP! never helped it.
Who's the woman waiting for the trains and planes?
Who's the girl in a fancy dress,
more than two but less than three
waiting to yell and to speak?
There's a seamstress
and a needle picker,
there's a wide hanging model dump
and wishing well coin plastic
dinosaurs, always dinosaurs.
Eat it up alive,
they say.
Whose toys are the best in resting?
In peace?
Mine rattle and yours don't
you scream but I won't
and the plane flies back and forth

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