Undante umoroso. M. 50-50.
Well now look at that one, pretending he don’t see me. I knew his woman, whatsis, fat singer wore the brown costume. Wouldn’t you like to know how. I should say his name, make him look at me. Look at me. Now when did I first see that form endearing? Yes, raining in some street fuck knows where. Woof he stinks! Passing the silent and deadly. Thinks nobody notices. I can see him looking at me through the back of his head. Sees my reflection in the window too. Coward. I’ll let it pass. This time. Thinks he’ll never see me again. Hardly ever. I have done, for now.