The Sky The Sky- Same As It

I Cling To My Anger With Every Ounce Of Humanity Left In My Ruined Body, But It's No Use. It Slips Away, Like A Wave From Shore. I Am Pondering This Sad Fact When I Realize The Blackness Of Sleep Is Circling My Head. It's Been There Awhile, Biding It's Time And Growing Closer With Each Revolution. I Give Up On Rage, Which At This Point Has Become A Formality, And Make A Mental Note To Get Angry Again In The Morning. Then I Let Myself Drift, Because There's Really No Fighting It.

How Is It That Everyone On This Train Has So Much Alcohol?" "we Always Head To Canada At The Beginning Of The Season," She Says Taking Her Seat Again. "their Laws Are Much More Civilized. Cheers.

I Used To Think I Preferred Getting Old To The Alternative, But Now I'm Not Sure. Sometimes The Momotony Of Bingo And Sing-alongs And Ancient Dusty People Parked In The Hallway In Wheelchairs Makes Me Long For Death. Particularly When I Rememver That I'm One Of The Ancient Dusty People, Filed Away Like Some Worthless Tchotchke.

I Think There Is Just A Vein Of Humanity That Really Loves Animals And Really Loves To Read About Them.

I Just Can't. I'm Married. I Made My Bed And Now I Have To Lie In It.