She
Mine, first.
Then
And I dance to her, even after at last dumping him.
That Homeric so called narrator.
And her - the orange Top, well, I still don't know.
"Undoing..." as she sings. Loud. But.
It's the accompaniment.
The slithers of such picturesque perfection.
That come over, now.
With such a simple new old system.
Everything's just all right.
But stop the presses, her with her new mini-sausage
Lingered.
In the sunshine.
As did the crazies, and their thermos flask on their bench.
Outside in the sunshine.
Against some law?
Who cares.
They 'get' it, too....
