The jet plane draws a jagged wound along the dimming autumn sky
His breath steams on ahead of him as through the tenement he does stride
to knock upon some doors
The boy who asked for more
and who hid his real fears so the people just saw...
they saw him smiling
They only ever saw him smiling
He breathes the air of the barber's shop
The steam, smoke and cheap cologne
He says, "Old man, tell this razor blade
how much you want to be left alone."
Over the mirror to the left
A postcard girl with naked breasts
brings us greetings from Crete to this ugly man's street
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