poems from the basement:
she looks over my shoulder
how we remember it (or
paranoid nonsense..)

i know hardly original is
it-hanging in the balance
(walk that way-)
a single or return..?

there, the ticket master
not normally
so emotional..
will he cry-

let us see-
how much is a single?
and how much is..
a vestige of hope

behind an insect eye..
how long is an open valid
for-what about peak times
ever had any fun..

long times..well, i ceased
listening long ago but
considering his demeanor
(only doing his job..)

we regard each other
outside, trains and rain
now, he is smiling..
in this town of grey pain..