Sketch Near Firehouse At Lunch

Tattered self

on the ground

rippin' bout

makin sounds

kissing mounts

of the self

all around

the dusty shelf

of the green

swollen pound

and pretty

littlesounds

and smutty

organ calls

on the walls

and in the halls

as the girl

who always falls

who's never known

as more than friend

and meets the call

of those heven-sent

and meets the Gaul

behind the stores

and talks of walls

and mettle wares

and mettle wares

and mettle wares 

_

and timid men

in fluffy shorts

stand on streets

learn how to walk.