Everybody was saying we must have more leisure. Now they are complaining they are unemployed.
quote by Prince Philip
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Leisure Suit Serenade
Wearin old t-shirts and grubby jeans
People say I look kinda odd
Well, Im never accepted in the social set
cause they say that Im a clod
But once in a while, I go to my closet
And I put on something mod
And when I step out in my leisure suit
People stand up and applaud
Leisure suit serenade
Slip one on and you got it made
You better hope and pray that the colors dont fade
Thats the leisure suit serenade
Now, it dont matter if the collars bent
If its got nylon twenty percent
Now Im as cool as the asb president
Leisure suit serenade
Leisure suit serenade
Slip one on and you got it made
You better hope and pray that the colors dont fade
Thats the leisure suit serenade, oh yeah
Thats the leisure suit serenade
song performed by Weird Al Yankovic
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Leisure
(andy partridge)
Leisure
They taught me how to work,
But they cant teach me how to shirk correctly.
As you see,
Science once again robs us of our jobs.
Theyve put a micro-chip in my place,
I hide behind screen of aggression nowadays,
Its just a way of saving some face.
So now Im permanently drunk,
Like the rest of the race with,
Leisure.
If you think Im clowning,
I assure you that Im drowning here in,
Leisure
They taught me how to work,
But they cant teach me how to shirk correctly.
I spend all day,
And all my allowance on t.v. games.
Amusement heaven at the flick of a switch.
Instead of a lathe I busy my fingers nowadays,
By scoring goals with the gentlest twitch.
Ive forgotten how to use my legs to invade the pitch.
Leisure
If you think Im clowning,
I assure you that Im drowning here in,
Leisure
They taught me how to work,
But they cant teach me how to shirk correctly.
They had retired me fore I left school,
(just saw no point in the standing in line)
So I spend lots of time lounging at home,
(why not come in cos the carpet is fine)
What a waste of breath it is,
Searching for the jobs that dont exist.
So now Im permanently drunk,
Like the rest of the race with,
Leisure.
If you think Im clowning,
I assure you that Im drowning here in,
Leisure
They taught me how to work,
But they cant teach me how to shirk correctly.
Lazybones, looking through the sun
Howd you ever expect to find your days work ...?
song performed by Xtc
Added by Lucian Velea
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Job Networks and Enlightenment Rooms
The unemployed proletariat had just finished with the Centrelink’s rigmarole,
Of paper forms, and signing his name, and all the stuff the unemployed got to do.
Running around doing the paper chase, which is a part of the dole regime.
Next, it was the Job Networks, the employment organization now privatised.
A new dole treadmill for the unemployed, encouraging an attitude highly industrialized.
“Welcome to Job Network” the t.v. monitor said, on a recorded video machine.
“We are a privatized organization for the purpose of getting you into employment.
We are here to help you to find your talents, and potentials, to improve your
Abilities, so that you can re-enter the work force to have a life of independents.
This is far better than being on welfare forever with your dependants”.
The interviewers in the Job Network office were old grannies,
Complete with false colorings and artificial additives.
“I’m your case manager, I’m assigned to you, and you are here to sign a contract.
The Job Search And Activities Plan and responsibilities and employment to find.
To ensure you’re meeting your obligations to society not to be in your dole grind”.
The granny said.”Under governmental policies your association with us is for all life.”
Granny continued.“There will be no talk-back, yak-back, smart-back nor fart-back.
If we find you to be deficient in abilities, then you have to do a course of some sort.”
The proletariat looked a bit stunned said. “At my age, late forties, it's a bit late.”
Granny said. “It’s never too late to train.” she did not like his mind’s negative state.
The proletariat said to the false colored granny with artificial additives.
“I got a really bum hip, and with it I can't do much, and it seems I can't have a pension.
I’m not 97 per cent dead, nor can I work in a factory any more, it’s quite hopeless.”
Continuing. “I’m 49, over the hill and even at 40 no one is going to hire me any more”.
Granny said. “There’s anti-age-discrimination laws that help’s you in life furthermore.”
The proletariat bemused said. “Funny, I never heard. Daadaa-daatatitit-dududdaada-daaa”
THIS IS THE CHANNEL NINE NEWS, THE MOTORING ORGANIZATION
DISCRIMINATED AGAINST THIS MIDDLE AGED BLOKE FOR A CLERICAL
JOB AND THE ANTI-DISCRIMINATION BOARD IS TAKING ACTION.
FURTHERMORE ITS INTOLERABLE THE UNEMPLOYED CANT HAVE TRACTION.
This made grandma very angry, and she looked at the proletariat with contempt.
And said that the proletariat didn't want to work and had a severe attitude problem.
Grandma said it was about time to do a attitude course against negative attitudes.
It was being held in the same building in the “Enlightenment Room” for all dolies.
Grandma said it’s about time that the proletariats guard against their follies.
“Follies? ? I don’t think I have attitudes nor follies” The proletariat said, and continued.
“I lost my job due to imports from India, how can I possibly find work if Australia
Imports everything in untold billions of dollars worth of imported goods.
Further more, Australia has call centres and “IT” jobs in India, sucking all jobs out
Of Australia, so how could I possibly find work, faaarout.
Grandma was starting to become impatient with this proletariat smart arse.
“We have anti-discrimination laws against what you’re saying.”
[...] Read more
poem by Jerry Behr Number 2
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Retirement
Hackney'd in business, wearied at that oar,
Which thousands, once fast chain'd to, quit no more,
But which, when life at ebb runs weak and low,
All wish, or seem to wish, they could forego;
The statesman, lawyer, merchant, man of trade,
Pants for the refuge of some rural shade,
Where, all his long anxieties forgot
Amid the charms of a sequester'd spot,
Or recollected only to gild o'er
And add a smile to what was sweet before,
He may possess the joys he thinks he sees,
Lay his old age upon the lap of ease,
Improve the remnant of his wasted span,
And, having lived a trifler, die a man.
Thus conscience pleads her cause within the breast,
Though long rebell'd against, not yet suppress'd,
And calls a creature form'd for God alone,
For Heaven's high purposes, and not his own,
Calls him away from selfish ends and aims,
From what debilitates and what inflames,
From cities humming with a restless crowd,
Sordid as active, ignorant as loud,
Whose highest praise is that they live in vain,
The dupes of pleasure, or the slaves of gain,
Where works of man are cluster'd close around,
And works of God are hardly to be found,
To regions where, in spite of sin and woe,
Traces of Eden are still seen below,
Where mountain, river, forest, field, and grove,
Remind him of his Maker’s power and love.
'Tis well, if look’d for at so late a day,
In the last scene of such a senseless play,
True wisdom will attend his feeble call,
And grace his action ere the curtain fall.
Souls, that have long despised their heavenly birth,
Their wishes all impregnated with earth,
For threescore years employ’d with ceaseless care,
In catching smoke, and feeding upon air,
Conversant only with the ways of men,
Rarely redeem the short remaining ten.
Inveterate habits choke the unfruitful heart,
Their fibres penetrate its tenderest part,
And, draining its nutritious power to feed
Their noxious growth, starve every better seed.
Happy, if full of days—but happier far,
If, ere we yet discern life’s evening star,
Sick of the service of a world that feeds
Its patient drudges with dry chaff and weeds,
We can escape from custom’s idiot sway,
To serve the sovereign we were born to obey.
[...] Read more
poem by William Cowper
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Those Glory Days
Those glory days...
Come to be lived and meant for seekers of adventure.
Those glory days...
Do not support the liniment impotent people.
Those glory days...
Will not be felt that way for those who are in pain.
The ones complaining everyday and that remains the same.
Those glory days...
Come to be lived and meant for seekers of adventure.
Those glory days...
Do not support the liniment impotent people.
Those glory days...
Are for those who reach and seek an energy.
The ones who stand up straight to get up off of their knees.
The ones not looking for someone to convince and please.
The ones who choose to live their lives happily in ease.
Those glory days...
Do not support the liniment impotent people.
Those glory days...
Will not be felt that way for those who are in pain.
The ones complaining everyday and that remains the same.
Those glory days...
Do not support the liniment impotent people.
Those glory days...
Will not be felt that way for those who are in pain.
The ones complaining everyday and that remains the same.
Those glory days...
Are for those who reach and seek an energy.
The ones who stand up straight to get up off of their knees.
The ones not looking for someone to convince and please.
The ones who choose to live their lives happily in ease.
Those glory days...
Do not support the liniment impotent people.
Those glory days...
Do not support the liniment impotent people.
Those glory days...
Do not support the liniment impotent people.
Those glory days...
Will not be felt that way for those who are in pain.
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Out Of Work
8 a.m. Im up and my feet beating on the sidewalk
Down at the unemployment agency, all I get is talk
I check the want ads but there just aint nobody hiring
Whats a man supposed to do when hes down and hes
Out of work
I need a job, Im out of work
Im unemployed, Im out of work
I need a job, Im out of work
I go to pick my girl up
Her name is linda brown
Her dad invites me in
He tells me to sit down
The small talk that were making
Is going pretty smooth
But then he drops a bomb
Son, what dya do ?
Im out of work
I need a job, Im out of work
Im unemployed, Im out of work
I need a job, Im out of work
Hey mr president I know you got your plans
Youre doing all you can now to aid the little man
We got to do our best to whip that inflation down
Maybe you got a job for me just driving you around
Im out of work
These hard times, theyre enough
To make a man lose his mind
Im out of work
Up there you got a job but down here below
Im out of work
I need a job, Im out of work
Im unemployed, Im out of work
I need a job, Im out of work
Im out of work
Im out of work
Im out of work
Im out of work
Im out of work
Im out of work
Im out of work
song performed by Bruce Springsteen
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A Drop
When unemployed,
Why the desires are desired more?
Why the more worries are worried?
Why the needs are increased?
Why the inability is enabled?
Why the confidence Is disabled?
More than ever as a rat,
Yet to be caught,
In the trap of illusion,
Of others ignoring us,
Not being respected.
Millions of us,
May be unemployed,
With little savings,
With Monthly mortgages,
A few mouths to feed,
A strong heart to hold and cherish,
not to let this little boat to drift away,
Believe me, we are the survivors,
This obstacle will be removed,
As the morning dew,
Disappear in front of sun.
Until the day comes,
Let us lead a simple life.
Then we save enough,
To live a comfortable life.
In another crisis,
help those,
who are unemployed,
to get over the difficult,
period of their life.
until then, explore the gardens,
in our cities,
where the fresh air is free,
to oxygenate.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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I hate unemployment
I hate to be unemployed.
I used to think that I am a smart graduate.
I entered into University with a lot of hard works,
and I wish to become a success career lady one day.
I worked for 15 years plus,
but I am not a successful office lady.
Due to office politics,
I quit my job due to angers and hatred.
Actually I start to regret,
because I have been unemployed for 2 years and 3 weeks.
I wish to go back to work.
I wish to receive my monthly salary by every month end.
If I have salary on hand,
by month end I will go to shopping.
I will go for a facial treatment at least twice a month.
I may join gym and learn yoga everyday after work.
I may join slimming course.
But now I am unemployed.
I have spent mostly all my savings.
I applied more than 500 jobs in these 2 years.
God know what had happened towards me!
My name is ruined.
My reputation is gone.
I have no professionalism and integrity in the public
because my name is greatly ruined.
I cried.
I cry.
I was depressed.
I am depressed.
I am undergoing depression treatments.
Who care me?
Instead who care me!
I cry. I cry and I cry...
poem by Grace Chen
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A Voice From The Factories
WHEN fallen man from Paradise was driven,
Forth to a world of labour, death, and care;
Still, of his native Eden, bounteous Heaven
Resolved one brief memorial to spare,
And gave his offspring an imperfect share
Of that lost happiness, amid decay;
Making their first approach to life seem fair,
And giving, for the Eden past away,
CHILDHOOD, the weary life's long happy holyday.
II.
Sacred to heavenly peace, those years remain!
And when with clouds their dawn is overcast,
Unnatural seem the sorrow and the pain
(Which rosy joy flies forth to banish fast,
Because that season's sadness may not last).
Light is their grief! a word of fondness cheers
The unhaunted heart; the shadow glideth past;
Unknown to them the weight of boding fears,
And soft as dew on flowers their bright, ungrieving tears.
III.
See the Stage-Wonder (taught to earn its bread
By the exertion of an infant skill),
Forsake the wholesome slumbers of its bed,
And mime, obedient to the public will.
Where is the heart so cold that does not thrill
With a vexatious sympathy, to see
That child prepare to play its part, and still
With simulated airs of gaiety
Rise to the dangerous rope, and bend the supple knee?
IV.
Painted and spangled, trembling there it stands,
Glances below for friend or father's face,
Then lifts its small round arms and feeble hands
With the taught movements of an artist's grace:
Leaves its uncertain gilded resting-place--
Springs lightly as the elastic cord gives way--
And runs along with scarce perceptible pace--
Like a bright bird upon a waving spray,
Fluttering and sinking still, whene'er the branches play.
V.
Now watch! a joyless and distorted smile
Its innocent lips assume; (the dancer's leer!)
Conquering its terror for a little while:
Then lets the TRUTH OF INFANCY appear,
And with a stare of numbed and childish fear
Looks sadly towards the audience come to gaze
[...] Read more
poem by Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton
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La Chevelure (Her Hair)
Ô toison, moutonnant jusque sur l'encolure!
Ô boucles! Ô parfum chargé de nonchaloir!
Extase! Pour peupler ce soir l'alcôve obscure
Des souvenirs dormant dans cette chevelure,
Je la veux agiter dans l'air comme un mouchoir!
La langoureuse Asie et la brûlante Afrique,
Tout un monde lointain, absent, presque défunt,
Vit dans tes profondeurs, forêt aromatique!
Comme d'autres esprits voguent sur la musique,
Le mien, ô mon amour! nage sur ton parfum.
J'irai là-bas où l'arbre et l'homme, pleins de sève,
Se pâment longuement sous l'ardeur des climats;
Fortes tresses, soyez la houle qui m'enlève!
Tu contiens, mer d'ébène, un éblouissant rêve
De voiles, de rameurs, de flammes et de mâts:
Un port retentissant où mon âme peut boire
À grands flots le parfum, le son et la couleur
Où les vaisseaux, glissant dans l'or et dans la moire
Ouvrent leurs vastes bras pour embrasser la gloire
D'un ciel pur où frémit l'éternelle chaleur.
Je plongerai ma tête amoureuse d'ivresse
Dans ce noir océan où l'autre est enfermé;
Et mon esprit subtil que le roulis caresse
Saura vous retrouver, ô féconde paresse,
Infinis bercements du loisir embaumé!
Cheveux bleus, pavillon de ténèbres tendues
Vous me rendez l'azur du ciel immense et rond;
Sur les bords duvetés de vos mèches tordues
Je m'enivre ardemment des senteurs confondues
De l'huile de coco, du musc et du goudron.
Longtemps! toujours! ma main dans ta crinière lourde
Sèmera le rubis, la perle et le saphir,
Afin qu'à mon désir tu ne sois jamais sourde!
N'es-tu pas l'oasis où je rêve, et la gourde
Où je hume à longs traits le vin du souvenir?
Head of Hair
O fleecy hair, falling in curls to the shoulders!
O black locks! O perfume laden with nonchalance!
Ecstasy! To people the dark alcove tonight
With memories sleeping in that thick head of hair.
I would like to shake it in the air like a scarf!
[...] Read more
poem by Charles Baudelaire
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The Task: Book IV. -- The Winter Evening
Hark! ‘tis the twanging horn o’er yonder bridge,
That with its wearisome but needful length
Bestrides the wintry flood, in which the moon
Sees her unwrinkled face reflected bright;—
He comes, the herald of a noisy world,
With spatter’d boots, strapp’d waist, and frozen locks;
News from all nations lumbering at his back.
True to his charge, the close-pack’d load behind,
Yet, careless what he brings, his one concern
Is to conduct it to the destined inn,
And, having dropp’d the expected bag, pass on.
He whistles as he goes, light-hearted wretch,
Cold and yet cheerful: messenger of grief
Perhaps to thousands, and of joy to some;
To him indifferent whether grief or joy.
Houses in ashes, and the fall of stocks,
Births, deaths, and marriages, epistles wet
With tears, that trickled down the writer’s cheeks
Fast as the periods from his fluent quill,
Or charged with amorous sighs of absent swains,
Or nymphs responsive, equally affect
His horse and him, unconscious of them all.
But O the important budget! usher’d in
With such heart-shaking music, who can say
What are its tidings? have our troops awaked?
Or do they still, as if with opium drugg’d,
Snore to the murmurs of the Atlantic wave?
Is India free? and does she wear her plumed
And jewell’d turban with a smile of peace,
Or do we grind her still? The grand debate,
The popular harangue, the tart reply,
The logic, and the wisdom, and the wit,
And the loud laugh—I long to know them all;
I burn to set the imprison’d wranglers free,
And give them voice and utterance once again.
Now stir the fire, and close the shutters fast,
Let fall the curtains, wheel the sofa round,
And, while the bubbling and loud hissing urn
Throws up a steamy column, and the cups,
That cheer but not inebriate, wait on each,
So let us welcome peaceful evening in.
Not such his evening, who with shining face
Sweats in the crowded theatre, and, squeezed
And bored with elbow points through both his sides,
Outscolds the ranting actor on the stage:
Nor his, who patient stands till his feet throb,
And his head thumps, to feed upon the breath
Of patriots, bursting with heroic rage,
Or placemen, all tranquillity and smiles.
[...] Read more
poem by William Cowper
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Complaining is good for you as long as you're not complaining to the person you're complaining about.
quote by Lynn Johnston
Added by Lucian Velea
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Radios In Motion
Theres a message up in china
That they getting in japan
Bouncing off an ocean liner
Make em shake em in siam
All the kids are complaining
That theres nowhere to go
All the kids are complaining
That the songs are too slow
All Im saying is youre deaf
To the fact that theres ...
Radios in motion
Atmosphere to ocean
Radios in motion
Gets you out of your red white and blues
When we move then so do youse
Theres a message in milwaukee
That theyre getting in moscow
Everybody walkie talkie
Everybody learning how
All the kids are complaining (etc...)
song performed by Xtc
Added by Lucian Velea
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Radios In Motion
Theres a message up in china
That they getting in japan
Bouncing off an ocean liner
Make em shake em in siam
All the kids are complaining
That theres nowhere to go
All the kids are complaining
That the songs are too slow
All Im saying is youre deaf
To the fact that theres ...
Radios in motion
Atmosphere to ocean
Radios in motion
Gets you out of your red white and blues
When we move then so do youse
Theres a message in milwaukee
That theyre getting in moscow
Everybody walkie talkie
Everybody learning how
All the kids are complaining (etc...)
song performed by Xtc
Added by Lucian Velea
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Farewell To Storyville
Clarence williams
All, you old-time queens, from new orleans, who lived in storyville
You sang the blues, try to amuse, heres how they pay the bill
The law step-in and call it sin to have a little fun
The police car has made a stop and storyville is done
Pick out your steamboat, pick yourself a train
- a slo-ow train
Pick out your steamboat, pick yourself a train
- a slo-ow train
They made you close-up theyll never let you back
- wont let you back
Go buy your ticket or else you walk the track
No use complaining, blue skys folow rain
- the cold-old rain
No use complaining, blue skys folow rain
- the cold-old rain
Just say farewell now and get your one last thrill
- your one last thrill
Just say farewell now, farewell to storyville
No use complaining, blue skys folow rain
- the cold-old rain
Just say farewell now, farewell to storyville
Just say farewell now and get your one last thrill
- your one last thrill
Just say farewell now, farewell to storyville
song performed by Billie Holiday
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Thirteen
Pinch my arm because I'm dreamin'
Better get me out of here
Once again my head is screamin'
Gotta get her off my mind
She's stayin'
And I'm prayin'
That she doesn't know what's on my mind
When she's around
She's stayin'
Complaining
Cause she doesn't know what's on my mind
When she's around
Suddenly I've got this feeling
I can't stop it anymore
Wake me again I'm dreamin'
Gotta get this off my mind
She's stayin'
And I'm prayin'
That she doesn't know what's on my mind
When she's around
She's stayin'
Complaining
Cause she doesn't know what's on my mind
When she's around
Pinch my arm because I'm dreamin'
Better get me out of here
Once again my head is screamin'
Gotta get her off my mind
She's stayin'
And I'm prayin'
That she doesn't know what's on my mind
When she's around
She's stayin'
Complaining
Cause she doesn't know what's on my mind
When she's around
song performed by Bowling For Soup
Added by Lucian Velea
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Love This Life
Seal my fate
I get your tongue in the mail
No one is wise
Until they see how it lies
Love this life
Dont wait till the next one comes
Pedal my faith
The wheels are still turning round, turn round
And maybe the day will come
When youll never have to feel no pain
After all my complaining
Gonna love this life
Gonna love this life
And so they threw you in jail
Whatever youve done
It was a million to tone
And dont you just love this life
When its holding you down
Pedal my faith
The wheels are still turning round, turn round
So maybe the day will come
When youll never have to feel no pain
After all my complaining
Gonna love this life
Gonna love this life
Theres something that you can do
Even if you think that I hate you
Stop your complaining leave me defenseless
When you love this life
Gotta love this life
Love this life though youll never know why
Gonna love this life
Gonna love
song performed by Crowded House
Added by Lucian Velea
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Pulled Up
Mommy, daddy, come and look at me now
Im a big man in a great big town
Years ago who would believe its true
Goes to show what a little faith can do
I was complaining, I was down in the dumps
I feel so strong now cause you pulled me up!
Pull me up up up up up up up up
I slipped, and I got pulled
Pulled up, I tripped, and then you pulled,
You pulled me up
I slipped, and I got pulled,
Pulled up, I slipped, and then you pulled,
You pulled me up pull me up pull me up...
Pulled me up up up up up up up up
I drift away to another land
Sleeping dreaming such a simple thing
I think of things that I might be
I see my name go down in history
I was complaining, I was down in the dumps
I feel so string now cause you pulled me up!
Pull me up up up up up up up up
I slipped, and I got pulled,
Pulled up, I tripped, and then you pulled,
You pulled me up
I tripped, and I got pulled
Pulled up, I slipped, and then you pulled
You pulled me up! pulled me up up, pulled me up...
Pulled me up up up up up up up up
I got up
cause you pulled me up
I stood up
cause you pulled me up
I got up
And that was because you pulled me up
I got up
In a little while you pulled me up
Pull me up up up up, up up up up!
Pull me up up up up up up up up!
I cast a shadow on the living-room wall
Dark and savage with a profile so sharp
Keep that wonderful food on the table
Theres really no hurry Ill eat in a while
I was complaining, I was down in the dumps
I feel so strong now cause you pulled me up!
Pull me up up up up up up up up!
I slipped, and I got pulled
Pulled up, I tripped, and then you pulled,
You pulled me up
I slipped, and I got pulled
Pulled up, I slipped,
[...] Read more
song performed by Talking Heads
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A Free Loader Gloats
A free loader gloats.
And I restrain myself from complaining.
A free loader gloats....
As if life is nothing but a buffet.
And as each experience I face,
I feel a need to earn my keep.
I feel a need to be accountable.
I feel a need to achieve,
A responsibility.
A free loader gloats.
And I restrain myself from complaining.
A free loader gloats....
As if life is nothing but a buffet.
And I sit with this free loader,
Wondering if there is a consciousness.
And not only do I learn that there is...
I witness the blisters on hands.
And enlarged knuckles on fists.
I've learned that this free loader,
No longer fights to resist...
To be who one is!
No matter who critiques,
With titles labelled to give!
A free loader gloats.
And I restrain myself from complaining.
A free loader gloats....
As if life is nothing but a buffet.
And to this free loader...
Life is what it is,
As it is when left to be!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
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Defending This Diminishes Quick
Indifference is a global threat.
Too busy sipping is a global threat.
And finding the time to wine and dine...
And complaining about neighbors,
In gossip is a crime.
Indifference is a global threat.
Too busy sipping is a global threat.
And finding the time to wine and dine...
And complaining about neighbors,
In gossip...
Is a crime.
And people who do nothing but sit on stoops...
With a hoop all day that's hollered,
Is crude and rude.
And children overseeing this,
Think these attitudes done...
Are cool to copy too.
Romancing what they do is sick.
And defending this diminishes quick.
Especially in the doing of it...
Is considered and respected,
As nobody's business!
Indifference is a global threat.
Too busy sipping is a global threat.
And finding the time to wine and dine...
And complaining about neighbors,
In gossip...
Is a crime.
And children overseeing this,
Think these attitudes done...
Are cool to copy too.
And showing them the opposite...
Will get the rolling of eyes,
And frowning lips.
Romancing what they do is sick.
And defending this diminishes quick.
Especially in the doing of it...
Is considered and respected,
As nobody's business!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!