The Lost One's LamentWho am I? I'm no one's bossI'm a lost one here, I can't be foundIn this land where gain and lossIs measured in tons and not in poundsWhen the world came up to my feetFlooded with fire and scorched by heatI turned back and said, what else? I cannot seeHow your apocalypse is related to me.And if I fall I will not cryI'll just lie down and wait to die.Stare up at the wheeling stars,So much like the holiday homecoming carsBecause there's nothing new under the sunNothing can shock me more than thisWhen the night falls down and day is doneYou shook apart my world with your loving kissYou never knew how to take the easy wayTrekking through pain and grief and tearsSo come and listen to what I have to sayYou're the only steady hope I've found in yearsDressed in rags and dripping with goldI'm a mighty king with a beggar's soulAmong the stories and tales always untoldCausing you anguish was never my goalWhat I only meant by those closed doorsWas don't stay and hear me wee
Bloodwish FireChosen FateThen the lie-skinned coyote shall emerge from his lairs and pits of deceit, and rise as a ghost, a shadow, a legend, equal to those he aspires to be greater than.His toughened-soft exterior will fall in a clash of cacophonous glory, and echo across the land in resonating destruction.His hollowed words and promises will be tugged away in the whirlwinds he stirs behind him, dust devils that chatter and bite away the candy-coat, the varnish-gloss. All pretenses, disguises stripped down, to the bone that this place has made him into, bare and bloody. These bones baked in the strengthening sun of a harsh mother, a nurturing torturer. The strength will be whittled down to essence; necessities while all superfluous fragments shall be broken on an altar of revolution and rebirth.The sun shall herald the resurrection of a new order, a new man forged in the fiery furnaces. The night will be his eternal squire and his oath-avowed liege lord, and he shall be the knight sworn into a
Porcelain WicketPorcelain WicketWhen she was born, her father gave her mother the little china basket with a white ribbon. When she was toddler, she always wanted to play with it. When she entered college, her parents sent her the tiny basket, and she smiled to see that package wrapped carefully in a tissue box. When she sold her house after the divorce, it was sent to her mother's. When her son started driving, she received a letter full of empty consolations and a list of items she was to receive.Today she looks at the shelf, and it is not there. I'm sorry.
Two-sidedTwo-sided"Darling! Have you been hurt chasing that lunatic? I was so worried!""Don't fret. My pack had no action, honey. We took guard till someone killed him with a blade. No one knows who it was. The murderer was slashed unrecognizable."A pause."Oh! What that murderer has done! I'm relieved he's dead
you must be hungry! I'll fix up supper and we can discuss this over some nice ribs, shall we?"Later he scrubs sanguine flakes from his sword and frantically hopes that he can pass it off as the humidity- again.No one examines corpses too closely, he thinks.