It's Well We Cannot Hear The Screams

Some Tiny Creature, Mad With Wrath, Is Coming Nearer On The Path.

Z Is For Zillah Who Drank Too Much Gin.

Mr Earbrass Stands On The Terrace At Twilight. It Is Bleak; It Is Cold; And The Virtue Has Gone Out Of Everything. Words Drift Through His Mind: Anguish Turnips Conjunctions Illness Defeat String Parties No Parties Urns Desuetude Disaffection Claws Loss Trebizond Napkins Shame Stones Distance Fever Antipodes Mush Glaciers Incoherence Labels Miasma Amputation Tides Deceit Mourning Elsewards.

I Don't Think Anything Might Have Been. What Is, Is.

When People Are Finding Meaning In Things -- Beware.