Sunday, October 16, 2005

Violin Girl

Play for her, guys. Is there really any other reason you're playing? No! Send her a symphony, throw her a tune, but show her a man who is willing or throbing or braying, just look at their faces - nature will out - without any doubt, and a flick of the wrist is enough to confirm what I'm talking about. Accordian wheezing, the violin sobbing, she's drifting right by them, she's passing them by and it's hurting, it's robbing them, slaying them, man's little nature, in pockets of longing, in bulging frustration she's walking right by them she's stalking, a sly one, completely oblivious, maybe, she's hoping for something, she's sifting and shifting, she's flying and sighing, so play for her, play for her guys.

2 comments:

hagfish said...

Oh! What a writer you are! I am touched and thrilled. Wonderful!

Paris Set Me Free said...

Your comments are much kinder than I deserve, and I thank you. It keeps me going. You've given me a gift which will be echoed in future entries. Respect.

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