it's a pleasure to reject. 

for pleasure, light all your cassettes on fire. 

it's a measure to protect this birthday present from distress. 

it's a pleasure to reject the hide-and-go-seek

anonymity of public swimming pools. 

it's a measure to protect this like a fragrance. 

shut your windows. 

happy birthday. 

it's a pleasure to reject this distance. 

so light up the cassettes. 

all of the amateurs are cancelled out

for listening for the dulcet sounds 

of the new children's coterie safely singing in the rotary. 

"we all reject for pleasure." 

then we swing. 

right time. 

wrong face. 

i can not deny my own sweet taste. 

this city shows me. 

owns me. 

undecided. 

witnesses claim to have found

that "impossible sound" of young adults 

learning how to shake it in the hospital. 

"we all reject for pleasure." 

now we sing.