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Showing posts from January 13, 2017

Any epiphany where sorry is a hard man.

"At first there's the bird house. Then there's a bee's hive and a short mountain. After that are two gas stations and an exam with many questions about, Poo."
The chambers and the swivel chairs above the street are all empty, He-Man's gone home for the night. The Masters-at-Arms are waiting with the old clowns and the other wig police down the way. The pills are bright, there's a few on the table. They're in a lumpy bag. The word, vote has been printed on the side of it in blue with four bright stars.
"Lumpy bag of polished toads is more like it," The Masters-at-Arms grumbles from his stool.
"That's what's passing for goodly wig to wig talk these days," I mutter along silently while breathing in and breathing out. "The city has no qualms watching us as we go about our tiny spider-business. Cast a wide enough net and they might even find one of them unicorns with an eyepatch or a devi…