Tuesday, November 24, 2009

Get Wrinkles Out Of Nylon



All are bones, other spare.

And Time will prove even more those who crave immortality. Seek it in religion, fame, or their offspring, according to Unamuno.
But are bones, bones and I ye. We better go finding out.

still ring in my hands the bones of the dead. Of the dead who were living like us who were young like us and had dreams that ended at the bottom of the ditch.

Of those who only between bones ground strokes have to walk apart from the stones. The pieces of bone not weighed, in that they differ from the stones, and are porous, but also are covered in mud and indifference.

have now the same life as the stones. But they had names. Were Cecilio Antonio, Luisa or Tabernacle.

Do not know where the story or who care, perhaps hidden in a drawer with cobwebs, whimpering behind a wall subject to death.

on these words. All spare.