9:45 a.m. - 2003-09-21
spurs your picture of a mongoose
spurs your picture of a mongoose
mongoose spins and turns into a ball and rolls over the brook of the stream whatever that means and tumbles like a tot down the rocks and sees a snake eating a cake but he never stops because he hasn't reached his destination theres an itch on his leg he can't scratch cos the skin will break and then at night the children climb and stroke his bed with the feathered down of a weeping clown who knows his turn to climb the ladder and jump off into the air and before you know it he turns into a mongoose and flies goldenly.
everybody claps everybody walks out.
the mongoose unfurls himself like a ball of wool all tattered and torn with strips of cloth and he sees the sun setting.
theres no chance to catch the last rays of light home like last time so what the heck he can do but gloomily turn and tumble to the urn.
smoke his last cigarette the mongoose
my armour when i roll and roll.
