There is a single star blinkingin an urban evening sky, amid a myriad of metaphorsas the…
“As flies to wanton boys are we to the gods; They kill us…
“Way over yonder in a minor key, Ain’t nobody that can sing like me.” -Woody Guthrie
Buffeted, battered,Bent by bitter, brutish winds.Broken bark and branch.
There it is,the furry, black leg.
I smelled a stench. It was…Stencheus. Stenchy. Stenchful. Green and vaporous, if…