Quita

Alone at the bus station, you ask for a smoke, are you a patient, in the green coat waiting, who goes for broke, the prodigal girl crazy, who’ll sweep elation, like Gypseys fix roads, in desire to escape, wooden benches forsaken, the way you joke, drunk on the pavement, a red letter fragrance, lost in lipstick, a ghost, your bottle taken, dark glasses no relation, telephone your hosts, your heart's not to blame, while pennies fall.