Читать книгу Word Simple - Harold J. Recinos - Страница 20

there

is a land of

make believe

in a place

not everyone

can fit,

where

you never sleep,

and time is ever so

slowly

spent dreaming

of things.

everyone

who visits it

comes back

to the block full

of all kinds of tales

like Angels surrounded

by the universe

squeezed into a field

made from crown-rimmed

bottle caps, and

raised Lazarus

doing Simpson Street

raps to put

listeners in love

with

God.

people,

talk there

with lips that never

move but

you can plainly

hear them, and

they swear

the poor are

never

overlooked

and

all the

Spanish speaking

junkies are

cured.