666
Ain’t no rats
And ain’t no significance.
Ain’t no shade
And ain’t no aunt of mine.
Ain’t no pole dancer
And ain’t no desk worker.
Ain’t no pollution filler
And ain’t no belly tap tipper.
This ain’t no number of mine
This ain’t no number of mine
A twisted fate
And tree roots with a lock hold on your ankles
A leftover date
And dark clouds rolling in over head
A dead mate
And streaks of fire falling from the sky
A breeder of hate
It’s not my fault, but my dear,
You are too late.
This ain’t no number of mine
This ain’t no number of mine
Ain’t no obituary.
And ain’t no surprise.
Ain’t no dinner maze.
And ain’t no donation.
Ain’t no signature
And ain’t no admiration.
Ain’t no scent of intercourse
And ain’t no cherry pie.
This ain’t no number of mine
This ain’t no number of mine
© 2006 David Greg Harth
06.06.06.06:06:06@296NYC