It just seems useful not to care.
I try this tactic now and then.
I think it worked in New Orleans.
…Like a perfumed woman.
Smellin' of where she's been.
Smellin' of Oregon cherries
Or maybe Texas avocado
Or maybe Arizona sugar beet…
That’s my Pal Joey; my name was Joie when
I was a pretender, that’s for sure.
I wish it worked.
I just can’t bear the flat, drab, dumb and stateless days.
I open up that sweet trap door,
to surging, rushing, pounding, swelling, burning life again.