there was a bit of green in the yellow and then the leaves were gone and now it's raining on me....?

That is for my frustration that my feet are frequently wet. Here. Winter here is wet. I'm not sure, I think I might spring for my old winter wonderlands of layers and frostbite over these wet feet.
I want to move to Norway.
Someone taught me a Norwegian phrase last night, but I've forgotten it. Which is fine because it did sound like English. Laquina has been correcto all along-o.
At this same crèpe party last night I also met a boy named Jeff that I'm supposed to call Bruce. It seems that it is to be my pet name for him. I can be fine with that. After all I got that kid I worked with to answer to the name Al because he looked like Al Pacino.
And that's all I have to say to you.
Except that I wrote another terrible poem.
So read on if you dare.

Thrum ba dum
thrum ba dum
piano and mandolin
taken in duffle along to the gym

your folk talking voice
held the eagles in hand
and I laughed and thought we could take a stand
against such arrows and Shakespeare thoughts
but we were the same as anyone else

and the revolution continues to be waged
in every heart regardless
comrade, citizen, stasi, publican
marching, marching
until I don't know what.


olé finé.