syrup spit in my ear
teaching me how to slide
and
she the hip hop record
out the san francisco's
out of the san francisco
hurdled *****
exchange rates
mastering the filthy turn
broken horn memories
adjacent his new coats
he had and hadn't given
away
how he wound down towns
spendings is spring
weathers are drying deserts
behind her eyes
so depressing sad
how about some ice cubing
and she would run home
alone
just couldn't get around
to their name