aint no thang onion rang

May 21, 2007 11:31

hot fuss at the burger joint
some jukebox stomp of people in and out
busying away, loose change giggles along the floor
a chrome-clean establishment
we're reflecting badly, talking it up outside
chewing our tongues at each other in a ring-around
pickin fights and posies
greasy lips and breath mixing with the midnight vapors
should be at the water's edge, this beautiful mist
board some timeless skiff
smile as skipper yells at "big ole waves!"
constructive interference
drowns out our clamor of saying different things at the same time
(much more remarkable than when we said the same things at different times)
inside, french fries arch their backs all excrutiating
stinging at each other in some vat of hot oil
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