reversing three blocks
against a one way street
is a new record

somebody
up there
likes me

a playground
covered in summer snow
looking like cotton balls.

a radio with a loose wire,
tuned to static.
you call that music?

sometimes laziness
saves you from
wasted efforts

the ability to photograph
smells, could deliver really
appalling pictures

walking
down
dog-shit lane

hunter s. thompson
does nothing
to quench my desire

not only are their voices
penetrating, they also
speak a language i understand

i have parts of
barcelona embeded
in my knee