the lawn is pock-marked with cigarettes

each burn hole a vignette

of time spent thinking of you.

some solemn stories

of glowing game glories

tossed tales telling no ado.

i've lost track of weeks

started to grow meak

but strength was just biding time...

love's labour lost

at crazed couple's cost

fading fate finally flipped the dime.

Blue could have melted to reds

but flicked ashes lead

to another seered patch of lawn.

more memories made

placing pout on parade

with disdain dancing dutifully till dawn.

[i miss you.]

more importantly though: www.votetoimpeach.org

[i firmly promise to add more nat'l orgs each day].

In the words of john and yoko, as told through system of a down, as told through michael moore [www.michaelmoore.com]:

war is over (if you want it).

24 March, 2003 - 00:26

behind - ahead