My thoughts jump into the East River
and lap onto the shore of that island
lost to the all too distant future.
And could you please just turn the noise down.
And I would really appreciate it if you could turn the noise down.
And please just turn that noise down.
I hope that this is convincing on its own;
and I can find that special wool to mask the hundreds of others
who've felt this same way.
I'm clever enough to push this off as my own.
My own that is completely unique and in no way
connected to your own.
And their own.
Because you can't realize I didn't make this up.
That its just another one, a lot like all the rest.
And it really isn't that good.
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