9859. A BOOK OF THE SAME NAME

A BOOK OF THE SAME NAME

My qualifications of Love are simple :

Niagara must fall upward, and the sky

much change its tune. No more of this

Greek Attican stuff  -  puny soldiers in

leather togas tied short at the waist,

watching a dread eclipse they had no 

way of knowing. 'Had we only known,'

they said in their Greek passion, 'we'd

have killed some 5 or 10 thousand and

had them ready here.' It's getting too

dark for me.

-

Now the hard part comes. All those bra-less

female she-devils wailing like the end of 

the world. It's only childbirth, honey, the

sun once more begets a moon, so quite 

your fake-ass cosmic singing. I've seen

you in the supermarket aisle with some of

the things you buy. There nothing of natural

Druidic about you.

-

The mailman will still bring the TNT; wrapped

in brown paper it looks like he's delivering

bread. No one asks. What's a mailman doing

delivering bread? The sun will be  back

in a minute, with a book of the

very same name.