words of prose

the slow prose of dominating dominoes makes cops go fetch jelly rolls i sing no sad song to be sung and flung. like the dirt on the windshield i'm left stranded to watch the setting sun wash over my sunburnt skin. cops yes fetch jelly rolls what else are they supposed to do when all that they know is becoming less and less of a clue? i do not pretend to be unknowing i want only to be all serving. for friends and family and a special lady are worth serving...