runtteen plumteen bumpteen dumpteen runteen pumpteen years old. you say it's the Veda Pierce in me versus the bell hooks in me. pointillist communication.
Small windows Looking outward Show me a sequined sky Rubies shine in my glass of wine Dusk breezes On oiled water Paint a pointillist facade
what you make We won't call it duplicity And/or Propaganda It's publicity Publicity Mandate madness Rhetoricaucus Talking pointillist Deepest pockets
Life is not a pointillist painting I think I don't know I get bored of explaining These things It all flows, but the order keeps changin on me If its
Through all the towns I know Train whistle blows And from my back, the stars above Are all the joys I've missed Pointillist, growing fast My day comes,