obviously, he had has enough
of scrounging, scrimping, breaking into bedrooms
billy jude, mr. bj himself, departs in a speeding car
and as he (finally) buckles his seatbelt
realizes I stole his wallet
I remember on that day, today, a song I made
'dead girls don't send emails'
listen to it w/ fear repeatedly and wonder if spilling
coffee on my keyboard might electrocute my
sad computer and me
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