IMPIOUS PIETY STINKS IN THE DESERTS OF MAN'S CONSCIOUS,
THE GAP-TOOTHED MONSTER IN THE ALLEYWAY SPITS FORTH HIS OPINIONS,
AND ANOTHER BRICK IS STACKED.
AS ONE ON THE BOTTOM TURNS FINALLY TO POWDER.
(FINALLY ALLOWED TO GIVE IN…)

SOMEWHERE, SOMEWHEN, ONE MANKIND SEEKS TO PLACE ANOTHER IN WICKER STEWPOTS.
(AS BLUEMASKED SUPERHEROS WATCH WITH DRIZZLED INTEREST)

THE SPORTSCAR SQUEALS ITS TIRES AS IT SEEKS ESCAPE.
THE HEART BEATS FASTER AT THIS SPEED.
(IS IT THE SPEED OR THE RISK OF CANNONBALL DEATH?)
THERE IS NOTHING LEFT TO SAY,
FOR THE DUSTY HAND OF FATE HAS SAID IT ALL ONCE,
(HE DOES REPEAT PERFORMANCES)

CLOSE YOUR EYES OLD VETERAN OF MISCONDUCT

YOUR WRINKLED AND DUST-LADEN EYES,
HAVE SEEN ENOUGH FOR ONE,
LIFETIME.
(HAVE SEEN ENOUGH FOR MANY)

THE BOOK IS SHUT – YET TIME DEFINITEY MARCHES… STILL.

---------------------------------------------------

I wrote this after an evening of walking around downtown vancouver.

This is my first journal entry so I don't really know what to say. I'm just working, and living.

I'll do my best to post a bit more on DA, maybe even some artwork.

Cheers,
Jon