still
walden freeman
Posts: 511
i've managed to squeeze myself into the schedule of a savior, a couch-sitting listener. sharpened like pencils, my bones can detect a new level of urgency. like a magician unable to disappear from a burning stage, i waltz hurredly through curtains, hiding in my back pocket a deck of cards with which i'll use to build myself a shack on a small sand enbankment near the bay.
unfortunately, the guests on talk shows do more smiling than talking, lately. we, like a troop of tu-tued ballerinas unwittingly marching into battle against a drunk redneck audience tricked into the auditorium with promises of a nascar auction, begin to tremble.
laughter? the best medicine? no doctor will agree. jetfuel will cause a great burning landscape, which, from space might look like a smeared firefly on a sidewalk, even though sidewalks are not usually green. the best stories, i'm afraid, end in the sunset. walking, backlit from the perspective of the viewer, into a blinding abyss of hapiness and guilt-free resurgence.
i'm fucked, royally.
unfortunately, the guests on talk shows do more smiling than talking, lately. we, like a troop of tu-tued ballerinas unwittingly marching into battle against a drunk redneck audience tricked into the auditorium with promises of a nascar auction, begin to tremble.
laughter? the best medicine? no doctor will agree. jetfuel will cause a great burning landscape, which, from space might look like a smeared firefly on a sidewalk, even though sidewalks are not usually green. the best stories, i'm afraid, end in the sunset. walking, backlit from the perspective of the viewer, into a blinding abyss of hapiness and guilt-free resurgence.
i'm fucked, royally.
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