fig.13.03) afterwards, drink don't think, drive, die... June's so late to foreign as is every drop of rain It's damp beneath her summer door and above her middle name June will follow May where ever she should lead T hey'll stumble through her bridal bits, Blah Blah Blah - The Bed of Your Rosy Hips Now that April's ray is shining her moon is turning too She's dotting all the eyes with tears of rain and waiting here for June (So Fuck You And You And You) - Before The Mouth of Chance I take the phone out my hip pocket and you brush crumbs off the table. Putting down our drinks, there's a thud, a smash and then a little tinkle. I sit down while you are tying up your hair. The bobby pin in your teeth is black. It's wet with spit when you smile down at me. "I don't know, Is there any reason for this..." A pair of tall pants walks around you like its in charge of Brooklyn and half of the haircuts in Queens too. "I don't thi...