The inner life of an old man
You have no concept of my thoughts...

My sun has set, I cannot tell
the weaving of the black thread...

Back then Admiral Hornblower controlled
all the coast of Spain where he waylaid...

She is at the bus stop
very large and very pretty...

It was wholly unexpected
when my wife plopped down beside me...

I thought I was fabricating a story,
creating experiences that never...

Go back home!
Where is that...

Trotsky left freedom
of exile for the prison...

Been responsible
my entire life but I have...

Beneath you as you sleep
a ship floats in your aura...

You cannot entice me with those luscious
ruby red lips, slightly parted, corners raised...

This? It's my father's pocket watch.
burnished gold, keeps meticulous time...