Oct 2, 2009

No misspellings found

Follow Mendelssohn

Down the stairs

out into the air

the heavy air, of the street.

Lose him and wonder

with your finger posed sexily on your lip

Caught in the glare

of those whose time is precious

and you don't even care.

Ah, there he is.

Found him again, will not

lose him now.

Make your way into a glass building

open and forbidding.

Louder it gets

and you inch closer to the source.

In the room is a boy

inebriated or worse at noon,

his laptop blaring out this tune,

while he hits on a tired beauty

a couple of years older.

She stops him not

for she wants him to cast her

in his next ad-film,

with her hand on his thigh,

she answers 'Yes'

to what he has not asked her.

The world passes by

with ladders and notes,

with scales and ropes,

with aches and hopes.

You retreat, for to invade

a public moment is wrong

and then you put your finger on it!

"Damn it! It was the Spring Song!"

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