1139

The berry keeps growing
In the newspaper. I appear
With a magic bouquet
In my demon costume (visible
Only to you), "Wanna go
Dan-n-nc-ing?" The sun
Refuses to climb down
From the tree so I let
The tinted-window BMW
Pass me and the short bus,
And in my car filthy
With eggshells we sing
The warmest chords
To the stolen radio.