SOME SALACIOUS RUMBLE
The cards are open and the deck is closed - the
mystery of transference has already occurred. The
girls and guys around this table are now beginning
to take off their clothes. This stuff I can watch. And
predict too : she's wearing this, he's not wearing that;
her hips will be gracious, this fool is fat.
-
Adorned like ribbons on a Christmas Tree gift, the
lovelorn shock of this process can always amaze :
numbers, no names, a photo, just one, and a nod to
agree to meet, discreet. You call this discreet?
The Howie Jumble Club? With a name like
that, what else can one expect.
No comments:
Post a Comment