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e x i t   b a b y l o n   

:   m.  a.   l i t t l e r    

 
from : lmno4p.org

 




Bombs are falling outside
Day has turned into night
And a poisonous fog fills the air.
We're sitting at the Fellaheen Café
On Place du Liban
Drinking imported sipping bourbon
Smoking small Turkish cigars
And waiting for our ride out of here.
(The border is 20 klicks away)
A bearded fellow
With two golden teeth
Grins
'N shows us a postcard of Big Sur.
Hank looks around himself
Gets out his notepad
Tears off a page
And scribbles something down
As he gets up to leave
He hands it over to me
It reads:
"It was a pleasure meeting you,
at the entrance to hell."



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