The Girl With A Guitar And A Bottle Of Wine. Poem by Greg Like

Play me the longest song
Show me how you drink wine without shedding a single drop.
That's right.
I examine every upcoming glaze of black ice with my eyes.
It's an affliction, it's hard to take it as a faculty.
Your skirt undeniably reminds me of the privileges that I'm losing
I miss being brilliant and immortal just a pinch.
Like my sweaters and shoes.
Your dress turned up gawky lightly claimed by fingers.
I can't figure if they are flowers all over its fabric or are they spots prophesying my death.

When I do it we ware Saints.
Dangerous as the summer garden

You've got to make a call.
Give it a break We're not old nor responsible after all.
My face is trying to be bright and more dire.
Yet there is still time to kill birds. Everything we've got.
Hailproof, majestyproof and liabilityflings proof flowers.
Wine is fine for me. Don't insist.
With vodka our foreheads will get dimmer, our fox furs faded-out.
Play me the longest song.
With lyrics that I recognize. I'm still like that I guess. A shred of glass between your lips. The last shot in the strings.

The last paragraph of the rhapsody.
Bold and impecunious.

The morning has gladly welcomed me with steam
On marrow frozen car windows.
The teeth mash the sand between them.
Flimflam hoax tall story.