The Nights Were Filled With Arguments

the nights were filled with arguments new jersey had a new prostitute spring and true love, drunken moments soon mutable to the crashing of objects against the walls, the doors freedom thru defenestration how was i supposed to read and write i would bang on the wall hey, Quasimodo, pax vobiscum, remember mans sana in copre sano this is heaven here on earth try Occam's razor for god's sake there would be a knock on the door Quasi had returned my Beethoven's fifth earphones, boom box i loved his courtships he used to walk, talk and breathe his next conquest the ones he could convince to leave the profession gifts in tow, he would stop by, well you're irresistible Quasi she hasn't a chance need money, a few lines in Spanish anything for a fellow kamikaze it was worth the silence i could hear him above my own roar my only wish was to teach him pick on the tourists, they leave upon his victorious return, the inevitable he would pull the bed back far enough from the wall to get the banging effect he needed gave her hell didn't i, he would say and the inevitable always brought the war month, sometimes more, and they would have found a new patron of the bottle art but new jersey took one seriously doing his life in Mexico what is it like to love a woman to death i don't care to know what a horrible thought it is much easier waving goodbye to buses no jail time, no funeral expenses Playa Hermosa 92 The Patient Stones