from Robeson Street
The moon is moving away
As civilization advances without thought
For the consequences
Scattered snow showers put fine purfling
Around the edges of the lot
If I handle routines, I'll dream longer
Since the concord I long for
Is like not being alive but finished
Moonlight at a fountain
For extra cash and you won't see one ideology
Funnel the soda
But continued actions will improve your looks
You whose last customer was Disappointment
After I'm done with it, the counter's
got a lovely brown finish
Solitary, I set up a night fork
And face the materials
