winter poem (for newsclippings and rowens)

[rowens]

I started to listen to Led Zeppelin, and decided to read the poem again when I was in a less violent mood.

On special days, I'm a May-eve and Hallowe'en American, I use my sister's credit card, and order booze from out of the country. I pay her, I just don't have a card. Though it's mostly ritual glamour; if I can survive American food, I can down foreign poison, no sweat.

I still feel the seasons. And spring is real for me. Though it could be winter here today. It's still dark and gloomy.

I'll get back. And you can finish it.