by Steven Craig
Gosh, another day in employment paradise.
A place in the sun that is eclipsed in the office.
A collection plate that is passed to me every nanosecond.
A shelf of rare grass seed for lunch.
What more could a person ever want that did not involve such demented things as
a humor beyond even tomorrows expectations
the joy of making the mountain peak before sunset
the slide down the glacier ice
a moment in the bit torrent
a pause before a mirror
a wrinkle in the depths of ones very own stomach
a foot in a foreign door
a place setting for hostile Mexicans
a never ending slurry of coal dust and milk
a beasts cry for blood in a bloodless storm
riding the wave of invention
bearing gifts to the one that really matters
the moment lost when you turn your back
the last Mohician
a perilous decent in a well of ink
the breaking of the code of unclear acids in solution
a flattering remark in vain
a greeting mistrusted
a purring cat upside down on the floor
a sound that is recognized as a single hand clapping
a wizards baton in the toilet
a snoring spider
the wrong way guy circling the universe
the vehicle of tomorrow here yesterday
the last chance to stop this crazy march
the first chance to try again.