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Aug 19
CAN’T COUNT FOXES IN THE TREES
Except for the T-shirt with the bull’s-eye in the middle of the chest, she usually didn’t give me gifts, but I digress, Let’s do what’s best as these are  phrases of purpose proving that streams of conscious fail , as  they just get you near, inexact lasers  red dots absent , but the soapbox is sincere

So though short  of certain clever, we should not now or never , abandon or fear it’s true  intent. An exotic condiment , a fresh cut freestyle edge is nourishment To stir our souls , This creative domain must remain
To  dilute cliche’, to strain mundane until the conversational melody is such that we need not explain.

We  could mold sophisticates into words that may somehow rebirth as lyrics. but we’ll go back to that another time, but first, why did I fear it? When I was in the forest that time, when she attempted a simple  rhyme , it did remind of that Spinner’s  song that’s upside down like howdy doody your clowns too , they’re all laughing at you and why were they even there and  didn’t say or stay in the middle of the road? I didn’t have no time to count the foxes hidden in the trees today and she didn’t have no time to be a decent person,  and the random gifts didn’t give me any lift.

That  was just her way of hinting that she was going away, like howdy do,  your clowns too? I don’t want them laughing at you. I don’t care if you’re on the side or in the ditch there’s no middle there’s no road, but  Phillippe  said how could I let you get away,  I had hope she’s going to stay. I’m feeling that if she loves  or leaves I wont even lift a finger, I don’t think I’ll even think or grieve ,  maybe not even linger when  noticing  she wont be sitting next to me at the ball game.  

Smirking now and not wondering how this before never empty seat shouts intimacy subtracted and belated , Yeah, this ends not complicated,  just simple cause and effect, with quick pause to collect , Sharing out loud  a dialect between me and  my companioned voice of mind , because my sanity is going to wake as  them or they or she intakes These  lyrics.  I hope they’re fair, but admitting something anyway ,I’m a little scared to share and the end will be and bring us somewhere.

Put a little jazz riff to it , I’m thinking she oughta put a little musica to it , and I’ll abet and let, so she  can visit if she insists. Will there  be a view that’s crowned most fun to see? Probably she won’t tell me. With or without  her screams and silken sheets, that or not  that , this episode will be complete
BobbyO
Written by
Robert Oliva  69/M/Chicago
(69/M/Chicago)   
69
 
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