labradoodle.
last day o last day
it's my last day in the office.
i've got the summertimes, like it's a bug i can't shake. rip roaring, sucking marrow from the bone, leaning off the porch at midnight, cruising down the street in flip flops, hunting for ghosts on the subway, spending money, sharing time, making plans and breaking them... if another tells me how age ruins the summertimes, that people my age don't get the summertimes i have to tell them no-that's not true. i've gotten the summertimes and i've got them good still.
this summer has passed by quickly, this journey, like a dramatic vacation where i leave when the plot is getting real good. is this what all those summer camp movies were about? i think summer could go on and on, if my mentality was right.
today i work for the last day in this office. i actually finished a project. earlier this summer i actually helped make a float . hopes were dashed because i learned that a queer office is still an office. pressence of gay porn and vibrators or no. i'm tempted to steal that hitachi wand, or ask for it. i'm always surprised what you get when people know just what you want.
smells kind of like saurkraut (spelling?!) in this office and i keep thinking about swimming in a pool with thunderstorms over my head. there was a poignant scene in a movie and i keep thinking on it, keep thinking on it.
although i'm totally opposed to the patriot act, i wish that i could get the information i so crave - the information all the presidents homies couldn't even retrive. if i cut open my brain, like a melon and let it all spill out maybe i could find it there, the answer floating in a puddle of chlorine and stale leaves. i don't need to be so invasive, but i can't be sure, i can't trust this notion that makes too much sense and leaves me a little breathless.
today is my last day and there's another last day and another and i don't wonder if your grandmother rides a bicycle.
i don't wonder about the next last day or first day or new day at all.
it's my last day in the office.
i've got the summertimes, like it's a bug i can't shake. rip roaring, sucking marrow from the bone, leaning off the porch at midnight, cruising down the street in flip flops, hunting for ghosts on the subway, spending money, sharing time, making plans and breaking them... if another tells me how age ruins the summertimes, that people my age don't get the summertimes i have to tell them no-that's not true. i've gotten the summertimes and i've got them good still.
this summer has passed by quickly, this journey, like a dramatic vacation where i leave when the plot is getting real good. is this what all those summer camp movies were about? i think summer could go on and on, if my mentality was right.
today i work for the last day in this office. i actually finished a project. earlier this summer i actually helped make a float . hopes were dashed because i learned that a queer office is still an office. pressence of gay porn and vibrators or no. i'm tempted to steal that hitachi wand, or ask for it. i'm always surprised what you get when people know just what you want.
smells kind of like saurkraut (spelling?!) in this office and i keep thinking about swimming in a pool with thunderstorms over my head. there was a poignant scene in a movie and i keep thinking on it, keep thinking on it.
although i'm totally opposed to the patriot act, i wish that i could get the information i so crave - the information all the presidents homies couldn't even retrive. if i cut open my brain, like a melon and let it all spill out maybe i could find it there, the answer floating in a puddle of chlorine and stale leaves. i don't need to be so invasive, but i can't be sure, i can't trust this notion that makes too much sense and leaves me a little breathless.
today is my last day and there's another last day and another and i don't wonder if your grandmother rides a bicycle.
i don't wonder about the next last day or first day or new day at all.