THIS IS HOW
A plain black backer with
process blue, a found 20 dollar
bill, with Bob and deadlines no
more mistakes! He's got money,
so need for the twenty. Which he
leaves in the garbage, behind.
-
It doesn't look right anyway, too
white. Like fake paper, a real
counterfeit bill. 'Leave for the
Rebels, or the Commies.' That's
what he said, that man of the
world. Got drunk and just
walked away.
-
That was the kind of life I was
living, and I liked it that way.
A few mysterious girls, now and
then, to sing my song of sixpence
and have my pocketful of wry
...humor that is. Not rye. Whisky
that is. Is that a frog in your pocket,
or you just happy to see me?
-
I jumped her ass so quick it was
over yesterday. Have you ever tried
looking that up? That 'frog in your
pocket' thing - it's referenced so many
different ways. Banana in your pocket?
Boiled Frog in your pocket? I even
have seen screwdriver in your pocket,
though that sort of makes sense.
-
She agreed. And we went our
separate ways, though I wished she
was still living in the attic in that
house next door, so many things
to look forward...for.
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