No Camera

Dark sun

Posted in Dreamland by ION on 07/05/2009

Two years of strange words and unfamiliar accents,
Tired of those passed,
Don’t know where all my friends have gone,
So, I ride across town and
Sometimes, I rock back and forth on my rooftop terrace chairs…


Ghosts of girlfriends, past waves, keep me awake
Take me to the queue of all dark sun dawns,
For tonight I will be a New York visionary art collector whose name is not Anna,
But that’s what you’ll call me.


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