on the radio
steve:what are the days
meant to-
i mean,are we here for a reason
do you think-i mean
what is the point of it if
we are not kind and loving at
some level- i mean if we are going to
be mean and spiteful surely, god would
be ******-i mean-what should we be..
anyway here is local poetess,lily..

back to the office from a liquid lunch
what is hell now hell on wheels
the neon is burned in soul
and the beige beaded sweat

there is hush and not much to feel
but the god of old
when love and hate gather
by the shredder..

there is stifled laughter and
an eye looking over-
not much to do all told
all done before

the years and the minutes
gather about equal
the demon round black and silver
there sweet baal goes tick

****-ding..
o let me be
three ***** are one
tick-tick-tick..