as they should be
Tuesday, May 28th, 2013Fate is fickle and
unkind. She leads us to hope
disguised as dead ends.
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Fate is fickle and
unkind. She leads us to hope
disguised as dead ends.
• • •
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We could do better
by our vets, living or dead.
Today, tomorrow.
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The path isn’t clear.
We may choose a direction,
but wander astray.
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When he was naked
and vulnerable, she held
him ever so tight.
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Knock knock. Get out of
my heart. (pause) Oh, you can stay
a little longer.
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Evil monster is
lame. (yawn) She’s unseemly czar,
known sociopath.
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Her heart belonged to
art and people and crafting
and passions unknown.
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He scanned the foggy
horizon, searching for … he
wasn’t quite certain.
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His eyes opened, and
she was gone. Never had a
dream seemed so lifelike.
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Father, husband, son,
scoundrel, drunk, beggar, drifter,
human. Rest in peace.
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The kitchen floor still
has rings where their supper bowls
held their attention.
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Piles of merchandise
wait to be adopted, then
thrown in the garbage.
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Beneath the hard shell,
a faint ticking could be heard
whenever she smiled.
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A heart calls out for
a twin, one that lubs while the
other dubs. Lub-dub.
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Silence. A rushing
of waves. The moan of a train
whistle. Then, silence.
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