(no subject)
it's the part that comes from your head
and that's all there is to it. product placement
and replacement and ads that take up
residence in a small suburban home.
settle down with a broker from
the other side of economic railway spikes
and raise percentage points via trust
in the stock. pure bred and hard to live
with. that's what's happening these days.
I once knew a man who said every life is
a told tale and, once I discovered he neatly
spilled at the touch of a pen, I had no
further uses for subclauses warn
dull blearily mucking about in hopes
of sullying the other side's sunday best.
it was our finest hour and the start
of something that could only be called
unnameable.
cut to a languishing castle far off in a forest
no one remembers rebuilding or even bothering
to care about. someone somewhere wants
revenge and the numbers look good. everyone
seems appropriately dressed for bad intentions
and romance is the flavor to taste this season.
that's right, it's all looking up so we're getting in
on the bottom floor. burrowing in the bedrock
of a new and never tomorrow.
maybe that fellow in the tea leaves is right.
it
is
about closure.