Nederland B outon Ivana at the bakery, her eyes very blue, sparkle the lilt in her voice as tall as a small tree, a sapling grows not hard to look at, easy on the spies as they detect a neo-Skokie troll at the bakery, I have little choice too many allergies, so what I chose the Kalamata olive loaf, each week holidays excepted, sliced never whole expectations run high, mistakes once made become behaviors unless made correct arcane knowledge shut up in my chest, paid kindness by a tall, Dutch woman, protect elegance and beauty, am I a freak restart, press the button, I am too old yes, an old freak, white beard, long hair, I find happiness in moments, no one to share each day, full of complications, to hold recollections as if reality emerges from a dream, this life, my mind yes, I hope soon to die, I cannot bear each day, same old, same old, calamity stay gold, Ivana, always a surprise
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