KIRK LAFFERTY

I lifted up the pillow,  took one last breath in of the scent left behind by  another. I washed the sheets,  the pillow slips,   my clothes piled up on the floor. Left from a time when the mind spun in circles, and such common feats were beyond me. The rain comes in after it seems many days of summer. When change hits,  it rides on a cold breeze.

Sunset over the Apocalypse  I started talking to the cat Then stopped  People might think me mad There are no, Sirens pulling over drunks  Prostitutes on the prowl Kids out drinking cody's Transvestites screaming "Want some of this baby" Overseas a princes cheeks are looking Rosie And Boris's nurses are immigrants.  The way forward is strange clouds grey have gone Future yet be unwritten.