Fiction, Fabulous Fabrication, or Fact?
You be the judge--please ask permission before copying, citing, or otherwise using any part of this blog--
Thursday, December 20, 2012
Clock tock quick. It runs away on skinny legs. I call it back, want molasses, cheerful, skips away again. I wish to resemble myself. Too much at once spoils the soup. Winds like hounds. Decay halted. With flowers. With olden summer. Not all apples have dropped. The earth moves on. It is difficult, resists human effort. It needs to be medicated, and how.