in response to a friend's silence

in response to a friend’s silence

that’s what she said.

i don’t believe it.

mr gorbachev, tear down that obsession

i don’t know shit

i know less and less

and then i die

we should all hear voices

telling us not to hurt ourselves

do you have a boston accent?

no, i’m not from around here

or anywhere languages are that established

mr gorbachev, tear down that train set

how many people can you talk to at one time?

it’s not quite right

this smoke wasn’t here before

the bastard looks nervous

the matches are still huddled next to the fire

do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do-do

i’d walk a mile for an earthquake

i’d make like mr chesterfield and

hurt you

i mean satisfy

myself

after i water the camels

rare moments in the desert like

the end of the world

when right on time means nothing

and we’re all too predictable