Eye tried to purchase a note book for my poetry and eye balked and faltered fully at the high high prices for my mind and yes ewe even my wallet is still back in 1965 when nothing much was higher than my dime inside my pocket and eye still believed somewhat in LOVE and so now eye am just pencil this poor poetry on a piece of scrap this two more $dollars and having coffee and the bus even so on SUNDAY eye will still and ever walk and find scrap of paper to pen poem on while walking home.
