ART IN LEATHER BOOTS monsters rule the earth science goes underground
we are superseding the insects our brains blocked with plaque and our dreams and hopes are embarrassed now in the loaming fields of stone art pulls on its boots and walks on down the hall looking for the library and the weapons there
BOMBS what was there is not there now thus spake bombs SCREENBURN GHOSTS whenever i close my eyes you ghosts drift curious into the doorway youre ghosts of my memory not ghosts of the grave tho you mingle with the grandparents and the assassinated miscellany you are the shadow of all our youth on my eyelids a soft screenburn haunting wondering where i am now and friendly CANDLE candle burning at both ends till there is no wax left and soon no wick then briefly i am entirely only an orphan fire
STRANGE DAYS so one strange day i woke a member of the world of adults tho i knew i was once a child and why some things make more sense now its nothing i had questions about back when i was small a plastic mouse in my school trouser pocket