THIS IS HOW WE
BE DONE WITH IT
I've lost composure, but taken my pill. I've
walked in circles, but gotten there still. I don't
know how it happens that I'm still alive. Here
the storm skies part, and bright lights recur : Gods
and angels and demons are walking forth, allied.
What kind of a mess-up world is this? Too many
things left to Boyle. No. no, silly, to boil, this isn't
a probate hearing. The watched pot, yeah that one,
that story lies. It bubbles over whenever it wants.
That broken watch, right twice a day - well, all
that can be said for that is, oh, sometimes, maybe,
aye. For all the rest - white marks on a blackened
chalkboard that rub off with a simple pressure.
Even kids can do it. I remember me and Theresa Knox,
in fifth or sixth grade, no less, without even trying,
getting in done on the painted walls on School 4's basement...
cleaning the erasers with which we 'd just cleaned the boards.