Brush strokes on the fringe
Idiot woman, all a condolence
Suitcase on railings
Curtains in wrappings
This one, beyond comparison
Better than that
Worst is on Thursdays
Better I damage him
Breast strokes and tanning
Talking at plastic
Reader, I married him
Listen, who did this?
Calling the maniken
Massage the dam breakers
Wait for the out to print
500, very good.
Like on Sundays
I kissed the church
Footsteps on the fringe
He ran, I can’t fear his grimaces
Holy water by the door
Canting at soup kitchens
Wedgewood and backstabbing
Listen, why can’t you?
Walking with children
I heart little envelopes
Look at this happening
Becoming less childish
Almighty, sanitary
Yeah listen, I’m talking
Less to be reckoned with
Like breakfasts on Sundays
Zero, very good.
(It's about how I am so thin!)
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