Ames Curve Farts Not Bombs
Getting ahead of my own question when the door closed
behind my back. I swear it's 30 colderas I walk over this
bridge. The wind blows through my clothes as if they
weren't even there. The wind blows, The wind blows. If I
was smart I'd get home as quickly as I could. I wouldn't
drink this much coffee this late. My mind follows paths
of luck and my eyes survey what I pass. I must have heard
this fifty times by now. Time to buy a watch.
