Sitting in a chair of bamboo, sipping grenadine Straining my eyes for a surfacing submarine Kingdoms of ants walk across my feet I'm a-shakin' in my seat in MexicoGrasshoppers creaking in the velvet jungle night Microscopic circles in the fluid of my sight Watching a dark-eyed native girl...
In a quiet corner of a tired old neighborhood in the city, the elderly Mrs. Grita Reginald heaved herself against a large creaking wooden door. Every day she woefully noted that it had swelled with age and no longer fit quite right within its frame. She imagined it warped a little bit m...