Ten Thousand and Impressive
Transparent Eliot I prancing wooden alleyways
Reaching for opaque faces which Vincent van Gogh would marvel
Glasses crooked the ladies naked succoring and supplementing
My ankles on again I marvel though dead the 10,000 asses in this Karl Marx coffee shop
Then my God the innocence like her which I once calibrated
With my half gallon of Schlitz Malt Liquor
Saturday night I cry a banshee more alone
And there is Tom the Madman. O 99 I’m 64 they’re
22 my passion in trash cans greater
Than collapsed cans Coca-Cola and they kissed before me as
If this were downtown Paris France
She butt tarantula
