empire (state) building
i am a pure child
never done anything wrong, except maybe
the many talking-backs
the few self-dissections in my dark bedroom back in town
(i am thinking it's an heirloom:
my sister did it and now my younger cousin
oh, what will my daughter do?)
nothing up my nose
no smoke to intoxicate my throat
just a few ethanol drops to burn my insides
and wrap my head in a haze
lips stained only by kissink in red siren
rather lonely, aren't you.
you write and repeat yourself a lot, don't you.
guilty as charged!
write a book this next year, won't you?,
i'll tell you what to say.
i am white as snow
but what are you when there is no snow around,
and flour is rather beige?
i am a little white lie.