A warm, sunny day. A sea food buffet. A fling in the hay. Solarte... in May. A song out of tune. Street crime in Rangoon. A nightmare swoon. Solarte... in June. A routine pop fly. A darkening sky. A long, anguished sigh. Solarte... July? Solarte... good-bye.
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Our machine has cog rust,
ReplyDeleteAnd is coated with frog pus,
Solarte was a dog just,
Like the Yankees in August.
[written from an iPhone on a Prague bus.]
Sooo - lar - tay
ReplyDeleteUh Ohhhh
Sooo- lar -tay,
No, no, no, no, no
Shane Spencer
K. Mass;
Ron the Boomer,
No, no, no Mas!
Hands of stone;
Bat of Glass;
Oh fuck it;
Bring back K. Maas.
So lar tay
Uh Ohhh
So lar tay
No, no, no, no, no
Soft! What light bat through Yangervis's closing window breaks?
ReplyDelete