Grey Suit Black Tie

Pianists

If we set the soft, the cold white tableware out in the garden would we be visited by a rabbit? The closest thing I ever got to imagination was a drum kit and pointed shoes … We smile upwards and ask, with his hair combed back, what was proper. He mentions the Calvary Tea and men with their sleeves rolled up to play the piano. But we’d bet our gins on honey farms and cuts at horse races. We’d trim the mattress to fit the corners of the room. We’d pull them from paper.