Skip to main content

Sheila’s End (Credits)

ISSUE:  Spring 2012

The fact of failure is one kind of song I like. Oh me, oh my, I’m a fool for you baby
is another.
And now there is the being out of touch, the fray of my tether.
Fine. I want nothing when they snuff the daylights out. A little jam. A little band
with saxophone.
And let them have a party to sew up my lips. That smokey groove is on.
Having a body has meant the world to me. Watching it didst. I wore it through
my travels.

God bless people. Nearly every one of them. Ah, the hell with it. And God bless
that one, too.


This question is for testing whether or not you are a human visitor and to prevent automated spam submissions.

Recommended Reading