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Stream of thought runs thru my heart and dumps into a little river. Red bubbles swirl around and down and rush past one another. Everything one day is lost but blood cells tend to linger. I’m not sure I’ve got it right when I say things get better. Reach into the untended cobweb mental splendor. One man may be here today and later gone forever. We don’t lose our places here so much as we expire. There’s not one day left to wait but we should last the hour.

I don’t have a stick to shake but I am still a dower. I am small compared to when we jumped down from the tower. Nothing lasts as long as bones refined into a powder. Our wet eyes can follow hell relieving like rain water. See the future. I don’t think there’s standing room for doubters. When will all this reasoning add up to something sounder?

Last updated January 01, 2016