  Glossed over,  like a sparkly coating over the filth of the kitchen,  of this bad tasting coffee.  She goes over and sits on her imported chair,  pulls on a guitar and strokes it non commitally.  The Partisan L.
Cohen J’ ai changer cent fois de nom J’ ai perdu femme et enfant Mais j’ ai tants d’ amis J’ ai la France entiere The wind the wind is blowing Through the graves the wind is blowing freedom soon will come Then we’
ll come from the shadow “ My generation is part of a revolution -  one of spirituality,  harmony,  poetic justice,  and Jung.
 M. B January 2ooo Reality is that instead I sit in my underpants At a 193o’ s typewriter instead of my macintosh So they can’ t track me or find me Or know what I’ m thinking I don’ t worry about Big Brother I know that I have to watch Little brother Watching me Because it’
s well past 1984 Watching myself in the mirror Like a 195o’ s movie star Is who I see With tousseled bed head Tattoo’ s etched under my skin Bleary clear eyes And a head full of ideas Watching the sun pouring in Knowing that I am living Not unlike The petit bourgeousie With my ornate Antiques surrounding me And lobster dinners on Sundays Literature and art books Business on the side I live like high society Yet I have no money I live so richly I live with out want Made of stone With a tree in the front yard And a bus in the back yard A guitar in your bedsheets In the space where you love me So dearly loved me I see the lines of people Living mysteriously With their hand out As they appeal to me I like,  the mistress of this house Busy with my affairs And dances My lover A fine gentleman in rags I stash my cash In his pillow case MB 2ooo y 
