This is the place and you are here,
scratched up desk, no chandelier.
Old glasses jabbed into a pot
with dried out pens and fusty thought.
You twist and wind dreams into knots –
This is the place and you are here.
So get it out, good God, be done!
The coffee’s black, your timeline thrums –
this whingy-whine is overdone.
This is the place and you are here –
so suck it up, you chanticleer!
This is the place and you are here.
- Jennifer Hill
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3 comments:
Ah, so lovely. The meter, the near-rhyme.
(I miss you at Facebook, but... YOU ARE HERE!)
Yes!
Oh, this would make such a great song. I wish Syd Barrett were still alive.
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