Thomas ticked on occasion. Said:
(into the blue like he had Tourettes).
Though he didn't suffer from the syndrome,
there were days when the sun beat down
too hard, too fast, and he couldn't tell
if the stars he saw
came from his never ending headache,
or his almost always lack of heart.
Mary was modern day; a barefoot whore
who knew good feet. When she found them,
she washed their soles with flowers and hair,
wet her lips, and thought about:
fucking - for free.