``would have had to have been''
and to think mark twain
complains about german

Dillo Fenderson

and the first prize
for true ugliness
goes to the Beatle Pickup

Dillo Fenderson

farts in moist
enviroment
smell even worse

Asuguo

couriers and tourists
everyone else is inside
buildings or cars

Dillo Fenderson

with a little fantasy
all of a sudden
it makes sense

Asuguo

quiet night,
mostly empty streets,
and a splitting headache

Dillo Fenderson

keeping in touch
with you
is self mutilation

Asuguo

moon behind clouds
like a painting
in watercolours

Dillo Fenderson

going faster and faster and faster
til my body is covered in sweat and
the belief that my memories are real fades

Asuguo

there are winds
where my best
ain't good enough

Asuguo