

The Wasteland's LamentCrows circle How fitting Two corpses entwined In a dirty little culvert On steep bank inclined.The Wasteland's Lament
One holds a bright knife Fatal burden To the others open breast As with a lovers cupped hand He to is lain to rest.
Two ghosts rise up Stagger Then walk away From the dusty old culvert Where their bodies still lay.


We Put the Fun in FuneralEvery time It seems to me I attend one of these Sordid sorties I'm left Of grievances bereft In a corner of my own If I did not know the man If I loved him If he hated me It's just a mannequin His coffin shows In pastel death But Heaven knows I came for the living anyway. I cook You clean We commiserate Producing handkerchiefs with magicians flair We sit through speeches Without complaint As through the final tolling of a solemn bell We put the fun in funeral.We Put the Fun in Funeral


The DreamerJanuary 24, 2013The Dreamer
You can push the human body only so far before it forces you to slow, to stop, to sleep. Until that point you can fake it if you have to ; I've got sleep avoidance down to a science. Start with caffeine, gets you pumped up, gets you moving, puts you on edge (as though I need another edge) but caffeine will only take you so far. To stop your body from eating itself you have to carefully manage your diet. Here carbs are the key (protein takes to long to process, and fat makes you slow, stupid, tired) I've always got a couple bran muffins in my bag, and I stock up on canned backed beans when I'm at the store (


Screams in the DarkThe scream was raw, primal, unfettered by the laws of human behavior and it's harsh, undulating tones cut through the haze of my morphine addled brain like a hot knife through butter. I jerked awake. Standing over me was a white mass that gradually resolved itself into a trim young woman in a nurses uniform. She was pretty, I suspected, but her hair was tied back severely and she was busy with a clipboard, so I couldn't be sure. "Where am I?" By way of response she fired back a string of half recognized syllables before turning away. As she drew back the white curtain surrounding my bed andScreams in the Dark


The Astrologer's LamentI expect nothing from you November men - men like vodka who burn cleanly away when put to a flame and afford little warmth even as bruised and gilded autumnThe Astrologer's Lament
eases into winter's wasting embrace.
Truly, what could I ask of men whose stars like frozen water depict an armoured poison known for perseverance and - immovability - behind which I might moor for a time with wary arrow notched, though
rendered useless by guileful winds
and their laughing tales of elsewhere?


So Long, Mr. TuesdaySo long, Mr. Tuesday with the chaos-theory eyes - I can't explain away your silences any more than I can deny that thisSo Long, Mr. Tuesday
marks yet another attempt to
reassemble your catastrophic essence from smoking parts so that I might know you
in a way that's impossible when you're both next to me and fleeting.
Got a light?
--
"I'll bend the world to our will and we'll make time stand still...That's the plan. Rule the world. You and me. Any day." -Dr. Horrible
--
Beneath the earth our fates await us -- and just think, we shan't need to go o'far to know what lay within our graves!
--
King Bob: I was a baby when I was born. I remember it all quite well. When the doctor pulled me out, I did not cry. I issued commands. 'Bring me some jerky,' I told them.
--
Illusion is the first of all pleasures - Oscar Wilde
--
King Bob: I was a baby when I was born. I remember it all quite well. When the doctor pulled me out, I did not cry. I issued commands. 'Bring me some jerky,' I told them.
--
Roxanne
--
"Doink!"
~Tonberry
--
Illusion is the first of all pleasures - Oscar Wilde
--
"Doink!"
~Tonberry
--
<3
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