Monday, May 23, 2016


Mixed emotions like this are what
make scenes at a holiday table:
Easter hams thrown out windows,
Christmas turkeys heaved down
stairs. I can't get too far ahead of
myself for fear that I'll lose track 
of the stories behind me  -  the
'where I've beens' and the 'how
I done its.' Just like that. There's
not a repairman left in this town
and the whole freaking house is
on the blink. I can't talk too fast,
but I can't talk too slow. No one
seems to listen anyway. All those
cards are on the table now, but 
there's no one left to play.

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