this is a world where notthatmuch lives

and notthatmuch goes on but

there ‘s one quiet girl who lives

in a stupid little shack made of

unfortunately:hair

they one time called her Miss Magu

but i’ve forgotten why

her only company now is

potions

and fire

      and a few      yellowing pages

witch she pretends are love letters

from immortal Boys

lost only by distance

and not by a confused sword

 

there’s a man with his hair

a mess of stray dreads and

braids and beads and shells

with a straw hat on top

he doesn’t have a shirt on,

only a brown embroidered vest

and cuffed olde jeans

he can’t grow a beard

but he can play a busted guitar

and dream while he sings

about the end of the war:ld

and he can smoke cigarettes

with the best of them

 

a green kiss was perched on a

     halloween minute

waiting for the both of us to

     catch    (up to)     it

a sweet

(((precarious kiss)))

but it kept the ghosts quiet

and quite alive

in mansions

and the rest of the dead mourned

all the living

a greatgreen Goodbye

and I sent myself away