[jon boy]

children in the green grass events like slow markers on the horizon and i there with you in the haze like an early morning with the sky pink as thoughts. events unfolding with quickening pace lining the way to my door is green with peeling paint and rust. got me a window to see the world and sit with glass to check the beggining i didnt forget the middle or the end. get the way out of views and sea air, keepsakes, tacky momento in the car waiting at the lights for the trains to pass on the line to the city.