killing time [millenium poem]
A man strolls past the town hall wearing a sandwich-board for
a coat, and it ain’t for the next closing-down sale, or the time of
the next coach,
and it ain’t for the price of a fake tan
or bringing the government down,
or happy hour, or two-for-one,
or the circus coming to town,
or a secret truth that God knows,
or the end of the world being nigh,
it says NO NEWS IS GOOD NEWS
but it don’t say why.
[ezcol_2fifth] [/ezcol_2fifth] [ezcol_3fifth_end]
killing time [millenium poem]
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