What is it that makes me just a little bit queasy? There’s a breeze that makes my breathing not so easy. I’ve had my lungs checked out with x-rays, I’ve smelled the hospital hallways.
Someday I’ll have a disappearing hairline, someday I’ll wear pajamas in the daytime. Times when the day is like a play by Sartre, when it seems a book burnings in perfect order, I gave the doctor my description, I’ve tried to stick to my prescriptions.
Someday I’ll have a disappearing hairline, someday I’ll wear pajamas in the daytime.
Afternoons will be measured out, measured out, measured with, coffee spoons, and TS Eliot.
Maybe if I could do a play-by-play backl, I could change the test results that I will get back, I’ve watched the summer evenings pass by, I’ve heard the rattle in my bronchi…. The Fabulous Crash Test Dummies.