I wonder if Mr. Jones ever figured out what was happening there.
posted January 15, 2008, 5:20 pm | Log In To Post Comments | 
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Bought a steno pad with a genie in it the other day. Not as good as my old one, but on the second and third pages it gave me this:
The things on the outsideAre all looking in on me.Looking down at my feet.Wondering why I don't justGO TO SLEEP Someguy with some doodlesSaid I ought to question sleep,Soak up insanity.Roam in your crooked mind justTO PASS TIME Ignoring a girl whoPeeled back her mask, 'causeIt was just likeThe veil.We all felt the same there,But just laughed it off,And I do hopeShe saw Well enough vague memories.Sit, let's talk about me.I like the warmth of a flame.Don't know why but I don'tThink it's because it destroys. I can't wait for the next note.Even when the band playsSixteenths, one hundred twenty eightBeats a minute. might be coolTo die at sixty four on theFifteenth of february.Cause I'd forget the day before.I love those little patterns,That lead to punsNo one laughs at So now you tell me.
