Lodging

Diane, I know that I'm just a baby. I've found the door, it makes sense to me. In my room with curtains drawn. In my world, there's something wrong. Black timing, I see the truth. In my lodging, I've thought it through. And I suppose you put the needle on the record. When there's a setting sun, it takes strength to remember. The aftermath, the smiling bag. That the lodge is black. Where's Pulaski at? Where's Jacobi at? I was told, twenty years ago, On the Northern shore, Bob unfolds. No more, I implore.