Lost in a paperback rain

Picking through books that you won't read again

Keeping your promises vague

Lost in the crowd in the circus parade



Keeping your Polaroids dry

Delirious fevers burn night after night

The cryptic malaise that you're in

The art that may come of it I'd recommend



To focus attention on books you might write

Ripped off from diaries, kept out of sight

The evidence you hide



Keeping your bed warm at night

It's not an illusion it glows very bright

With the young coal the fire is fed

Who you keep with you is best left unsaid



On finding particular friends

Remember that all moral fiber will bend

To put them in letters you burn as you write

Seen in reflections and not with your eyes

Cultivating lies