in yellow in a black and white picture, literature in walk and motion distinct and fast and pace it, race it grip it run it and wind up the hill and be still there, still there by the coast and sweet like honey on toast, keep beat and rhythm live through body and fire through eyes, shooting out and curving down the hips , kiss those lips of life, fuck the dime and through behind, walk ahead and wish. for this old world to finish. peace
