Monday, November 24, 2008

Criticality

Triticali. Cross indeed. All in the middle of everyone else's variegated crazy...and the mists, night and morning and the incandescent halos of the streetlights and the sun. The river in the air, again.

Tonight, I am very sad.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

i would catch all your tears in a little jar and pour the briny waters over some yams, salvation for the little cake the earth makes

fimbulwinter said...

I keep my tears, put them in the hollow-point silver bullets I save for the wherewolves, whywolves and whomwolves that are my great enemies.