prune juice on a saturday night pushing ladies with first editions suicide on the side drop on in no inhibitions porsche train portia burning lust the life fingers yearning turn away turn the corner she’ll understand you didn’t warn her raise the flower flour raising look in eyes anticipating ninety nine a hundred coming walk the street the race is running understand the words are leaping who can tell who has an answer from a page handshakes greeting red car with a black horse prancing