Illustria

Here's something for you, if you think you come first, with all your places to go, you’re not enough born, to rage against thirst, when summer gets torn, the sea still surrounds you, have you time for mirth, home’s not a clue, by book or by 'phone, your trail well versed, to know you'll be going, will you try this evening, drive away swearing, pass a naked cafe' to where all debt is burst, salt and stars like glue, blown in the easy air your eyes dead blue.