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sounds of children
the gang of four
must be playing
inside today
there are no children
voices in the court yard
perhaps they are playing foosball
in the community room
i eat a big peach on the little porch
out the back door letting the juice dribble
down my face and onto the grass
it has been raining off and on
all day
i miss you
i miss you too much
i wanna be drunk again
it rains all day
i wrote a play
but feel fat in the process
sometimes i wish life was like
something like pleasure
something that could dribble
down my cheek
