Third floor. Balcony. Lean over. Read sign.
Then ask yourself: WTF?
When asked where you should park for maximum safety.
Just say Good enough for me, then.
All seeing, all knowing.
Out there, still glowing.
Reminds me of Nevada.
Where the letters go backward.
We stopped for a moment, lost in each other's grace, leaning against that wall, shining with joy.
And then went down the street for beer and cookies.
I've got the ink.
You've got the knowhow, I think.
Good thing I've achieved invisibility. Now they can't see what to chase.
Next up, I work on my smell.
Looks this way, looks that.
Then it winks, then it blinks, then it goes dark.
I don't know about you.
But I don't much like poo.
Stuck to the wall.
I wish I looked so good that way.
Always there, with your peckers out.
And now you're giving me the bloody eye.