oh vera i can t complain but when when will you write this city is strange and strangely bright sooner or later i ll change oh vera my cough is silent and sunset is setting up fine there s work for me here and here is my work while we wait for my lungs to dry oh vera tonight i m lost what makes me live for this craft i m going nowhere my music s a bust even our neighbours just laugh oh vera we must see a film i think that it might change my life something with garland who s down on her luck the kind of picture i like oh vera i m full of it now who knew that notes could be fun i m counting to twelve and then back to one i feel i m a writer again oh vera i m truly content i m waiting alone for a friend a helluva poet a hollywood type who turns up the words on their end oh vera i m reading the news i can do nothing but cry the opera was summer an apple just fell it s funny how well poets lie