"There's not much doubt in any of our minds that no complete idea springs fully formed from our brow,
needing only a handshake and a signature on the contract to send it off into the world to make twenty-five billion dollars.
The germ of the idea grows slowly..." - Walt Kelly

Wednesday, April 18, 2012

Sight lines

Day 18: Don't want to write a lullaby, so...it's Three Word Wednesday (dependence, kept, rumple) and I have this weird thing:

Make the screen darker -
we'll slide in with new bones,
bits to whet the appetite
while the better meal roasts.
This dependence might cost us,

a point well made between
bites too large to chew and
sputters of our freshly rumpled
existence. Were we to realize
the year is past, might we make

a better run of things? Defeatist,
we imagine a backup plan
kept in accordance with the rules
we've made, cursed, and spat
upon, our wise and dearest friends.

Playing on my iTunes at this very moment:
The New Pornographers, Letter From An Occupant

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