Before Freud no couch
After Freud peace and quiet
Lying to myself
Before Freud no couch
After Freud peace and quiet
Lying to myself
Art is what you get
From folks who could screw it up
But restrain the urge
Why yes you mayo
You can ketchup right away
With our condiments
I’ve nothing against
Rich people but give me time
To do my research
Inventing the past
Because existing stories
Concern dead people
Librarian first
Then lampshades books and bookshelves
Or so i have read
When she was younger
The earth seemed pretty damned old
And not without faults
No need for titles
When you’re surrounded by friends
Who know you too well
She painted the room
Light gray except the window
Which had its own shade
Not zeros and ones
But an alphabet’s riot
Of combination