I don’t understand dark chocolate.
Which is pomp, and which is
circumstance? Die happy
debating whether Leno’s
move helps NBC.
At Starbucks, a genial gentleman
asks me if I was in the army.
I don’t know what it means
to open my mouth.
Stargazing.
I literally cried myself to sleep.
Or couldn’t shed many tears,
just a few, drowsy as I was
after I finished The
Safety of Objects.
Show me how to write Simian
Mobile Disco-esque lyrics.
I was planning on going
home for lunch
today.
