So We Make Stories Of

I've Held A Brain In My Hands, Which Is An Extraordinary Experience.

Behind Their Eyes The Hope Was Sickening And In Many, Dead. They Lived From Event To Event With A Subtle Terror Of The Gap Between, Filling Up Their Lives With Distractions To Avoid The Emptiness Where Curiosity Should Have Been.

After All, Where Can The Glorious, The Goofy, And The God-like Stand Shoulder To Shoulder?

O Little One, My Little One, Come With Me, Your Life Is Done. Forget The Future, Forget The Past. Life Is Over: Breathe Your Last.

Leavening The Flat Bread Of What We Know, With The Yeast Of What We Dream May Come To Pass.