They're Selling Postcards Of The

I Wish That For Just One Time You Could Stand Inside My Shoes. You'd Know What A Drag It Is To See You.

Clowns To The Left Of Me, Jokers To The Right, Here I Am.

My Guard Stood Hard When Abstract Threats, Too Noble To Neglect, Deceived Me Into Thinking, I Had Something To Protect.

Mama's In The Factory, She Ain't Got No Shoes. Daddy's In The Alley, He's Looking For Food.

A Poem Is A Naked Person.