MY MIND IS A
NEVER-ENDING PLACE
Cocktails and banter, all that shillelagh stuff,
over the14th floor balcony atop another shitty
city. I cringe at nothing, yet everything makes
me cringe. This guy's soap-dish, to name just
one horrid thing, is so caked it's got its own
archaeologists combing it. All those rich, fancy
Kansas City names and people I used to know,
they're all gone now - turned and flossed into
nattering nitwits or fluorescent fobs. I walked into
this place alone, and I'll take that cab back home alone.
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