2/11/14

Dried Tears

     The map is covered in green.  It's always the same in the city.  Perhaps we should all fall down and have a fit.  It is not just!  Cars and trucks and cars and trucks.  Whooshing by.  Spinning and spinning.  Here, we are royalty.  Kings and queens and aces and jacks.  But I go for the tens.  Among the commoners by design and choice.  The pressures of the circumstance and pomp avoided.  On to other matters.  To write and consider.  In that order.  Work the edges.  The day's fury, today's distraction, yesterday's dried tears.

Hang Gliders

  Death to America, death to all. Hit Beirut after ditching the Shah. Flew hang gliders in to murder and maim. Took hostages, too, always th...