what have we been talking about all this time
coming to in a tape flicker landing in dry light
planning a robbery maybe because I was
staring up from the bottom of the lake where
my guns are weightless porta cenere say
a pressed tin ashtray passed over the zinc
the patron leans back as the glass bursts
upwards oh diamonds round the throat and
again a little blood comes out at the mention
of the job but we must have imagined the bar
now we’re on different chairs in the kitchen
from where the plan has been redacted by
the dark square of the knife drawer leaving
some blocky shame around the tongue and
a half smile shit I’m more Clive Dunn than
Clyde Barrow and I’m not even sure right now
if I close my eyes am I indoors or outside
it does seem perfect though we just walk in
cause total fear make people cry and shit
at least you’d see them right? I’m making tea
with some kind of flower I’m running around
other cities scared at what I might accidentally
say but not mean or at least not mean to say
you do look a little like Duke Ellington in that
hat you can come too it seems we’re off on a
crime spree if we ever get out of this kitchen

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About alanhay68

None of your business
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