8457. THOUGH I DON'T THINK MUCH OF THE LANDING I LIKE YOUR BREASTS IN THAT SWEATER

THOUGH I DON'T THINK
MUCH OF THE LANDING
I LIKE YOUR BREASTS
IN THAT SWEATER

Now, consider the options:

I could have said I'd like them

'out', or nothing at all. How bad

a stranger than would I be? I've

watched you eating that orange for

five minutes, the whole last range of

this flight. What other would you have

me do? I'm so bored I could cry.

-

That landscape below us, yes, it looks

like Newark - you know, a real

hellhole now, not at all what it

used to be : jazz clubs in a row,

dark 1940's skies, all those bulbs and

lightbulbs on the signs. Jeez that was

great. We invented, right there,

what a 'hipster' is, as it's known today.

-

By Jesus, we were cool. You young kids

ain't shit, or if you are, it's just

fly-shit on some white waxed paper.

You get me, honey pie? You get

what I'm saying now? You dig?