Post by Ramona on Feb 23, 2006 7:59:48 GMT -8
i wanna be a coffee coloured brown speakeasy angel
waitin for her godfather-goodfella man
batting baked broken lashes
in the two-toned two-bright lights
that are centered on a lapsing lazy susan.
but i’m as white as my torn-top cuticles
white like someone’s idea at frozen marzipan
which has no taste, not like shimmering swirls of tinctured tea.
i want a deniro-pacino man gun casin italian talkin mafioso
a hit and run man, with tattoos he only shows to me
and a grandma’s old cadillac: big trunk for big bodies.
but all i’ve got is a nowhere tom who makes love to the shadows
with metal punctures on his skin and a torn bus pass
sings to me the sounds of the smoke
between the ghost lips and teeth tremors
(wishful thinking)
by Pseudomuse
waitin for her godfather-goodfella man
batting baked broken lashes
in the two-toned two-bright lights
that are centered on a lapsing lazy susan.
but i’m as white as my torn-top cuticles
white like someone’s idea at frozen marzipan
which has no taste, not like shimmering swirls of tinctured tea.
i want a deniro-pacino man gun casin italian talkin mafioso
a hit and run man, with tattoos he only shows to me
and a grandma’s old cadillac: big trunk for big bodies.
but all i’ve got is a nowhere tom who makes love to the shadows
with metal punctures on his skin and a torn bus pass
sings to me the sounds of the smoke
between the ghost lips and teeth tremors
(wishful thinking)
by Pseudomuse