WATCHING MR. MOTO
('this is Poetry?')
No forks in the house, just pails and pails
of food and all they do is eat with sticks,
or shovels. Cheesiest Chinamen I ever saw.
No, no, can't say that : fondest coterie of
Asian cats ever seen (how's that?).
You know how when someone reads
the newspaper upside down you know
they're faking for sure and probably
can't read a word? Well, that's exactly
how I feel. The sunrise is already later
by like ten minutes a day, and it's the
final day of June. What's with that?
Backsliding already - damned solar system
tilt and twist and spin. Mandarin characters
and a calendar upon the wall. Faded
watercolor of some highland falls
and jasmine, pines, or something.
What do I know? High above, a
dove flies. I'm not sure if this is
real life or just some watery
calendar etching with the
year already out of date.
Mr. Moto? Poetry?
('this is Poetry?')
No forks in the house, just pails and pails
of food and all they do is eat with sticks,
or shovels. Cheesiest Chinamen I ever saw.
No, no, can't say that : fondest coterie of
Asian cats ever seen (how's that?).
You know how when someone reads
the newspaper upside down you know
they're faking for sure and probably
can't read a word? Well, that's exactly
how I feel. The sunrise is already later
by like ten minutes a day, and it's the
final day of June. What's with that?
Backsliding already - damned solar system
tilt and twist and spin. Mandarin characters
and a calendar upon the wall. Faded
watercolor of some highland falls
and jasmine, pines, or something.
What do I know? High above, a
dove flies. I'm not sure if this is
real life or just some watery
calendar etching with the
year already out of date.
Mr. Moto? Poetry?
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