Monday, January 28, 2008

oh the heat

When the heat is beating down and it's knocking on the door of forty degrees
I take myself into a dark corner, smile and dream of smelly cheese
I drape myself in a purple furoshki
and read books by nobakov and listen to Tchaikovsky
I may be small I may be hairy but my taste in culture is impeccable and scary
may peach blossom petals cool your sweaty brows.