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needles needling needlessly with little thread... or much of anything else...

(foolish dribbles to be written at uncertain times, on an irregular basis, from uncertain sections of the ever expending universe, and from whatever dimension I-We-Us-Them might find ourselves/ myself in …)

Sunday, August 28, 2005

18h51 


The dogs are quiet
the parking lot is empty
I got me a simple high
simmering lightly
on a small fire
and that’s all I can ask for
right now
and if you don’t understand
keep on
fighting your own fight
just leave me out of it
and let me sit mine out
for right now.
Posted by: François Pointeau / 16:53
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