you're the magic that holds the sky up
strawberry. rum punch.
2004-02-22
11:09 p.m.

i'm peeling pennies off the floor

money in my pocket

beads on a necklace

strung and hung and left

on the edge

of a desk that's already too cluttered.

life is a breathless

shoutless wondering

how in the middle of the night.

there are so many things to think about and mull over and delve into and why do all those things end in prepositions? foiled again...

back to :: the future
...

though you might hear laughin', spinnin', swingin' madly across the sun, it's not aimed at anyone, it's just escapin' on the run

recent history:

probably the biggest news of the day - 2004-07-05
propane eggs - 2004-06-29
white out - 2004-06-08
mid 70s - 2004-06-03
why, let me help you with that - 2004-05-12