Seventy-seven, to mark the end of the heavens the part they said that would never be, is heading for me.
Sixty in six, they card the cheatsters and tricks and with a bow of the hand, they let the fraudsters their land
It's fifty to five, they ask...

"I don't know, I don't know who that is," she said, handing me back the paper.
She wouldn't have, I suppose, she was much too young. Two years made a hell of a difference in the 90's. Like dog years, those. Everyone acted like dogs, anyway.
I gave up trying to convince...

A heavy pen bears lamentable words. It etches into the carbon plane an inescapable experience, an emotion branded from now until the end of time, be that dissolved into a mush of pulp or borne unto the sky as withered ash. Does the emotion clash with the underlying being? Does...

There are times when one must relinquish one's hopes of a good outcome. Lean into the scythe, the claws, as though one’s long night's pillow were gently inviting one closer.
This is not that time. Give up no hope, for like real estate, they're not making any more of it. 
Except that...

Contrast leads to recognizing the nameless emotions, like acid leads to recognizing social constructs and norms and things you just have become deaf to. We had a grandfather clock when I was a kid that never missed a beat if you listened for it, but whose tone quickly faded into...

Nameless emotions are the prickliest, I thought today. Sometimes I just namelessly hate things, or feel some sort of way. Coming back to the States today I noticed underlying feelings I have about some things, people, that aren't really products of the act or action but of my mindset in...

I don’t trust that guy. He’s not addicted to things. I don’t know what his masters are.

He could be a free agent.

Fatigue of the soul, written in parts.

Starting with two shots, one ordered one bequeathed.

A bottle of misunderstanding, corrected, and the mistake kept.

All in pursuit of a reference, a spoken connection, a name written but never met, that the two reverse.

We got to his line in front of his pub, the...

Where does one cliff end that another begins? What are cliffs compared to a single cliff?

In time the colors fade, but new ones scratch their way up. Deep oak and pine wilt to swampsbeard and marshmouth, as the earth takes another of her cards back.

The grass grows without allegiance to color or jersey, it does what it does where it will. Speckled greens dot entire...