I ride my bike in Lycra shorts
at like
Five and two naughts in the morning.
I’ve played track five
Five times today
And can’t get that feeling
Back.
And that crack in the ceiling
Is making me
Nervous.
I cannot regress because I am connected
By the world wide web.
Though, I must confess, I know nobody.
I have murdered the stranger,
Herded caged birds with clipped wings,
To stare at you through smoke rings,
While your not looking.
I hope you can smell my Ralph Lauren.
I never miss the mist,
The squirt, squirt.
If you get my gist.
