How do you know when you are trouble? Well the flimsy rubber raft that is your oasis of salvation seems to be taking on more water than you can bail out, and the efforts to purge the encroaching liquid death are now unreciprocated.
Just like your collection of manuscripts full of unpublished prose that spill into dark despair only one day to be tossed aside as carelessly as your comic books or baseball cards.
Oh, you found comfort there, repeating the same old tired lines the same way you memorized Rod Carew's stats both with the Twins and the Angels.
Three twenty-eight, 3,053, ten fifteen, and looks like your trying to hold on to 29 forever, but they've retired that number - in two towns so you best just move on.
Time moves alright, but the speed accelerates like cheap coffee splashing in ceramic white cups in the late night diner rush.
A church for the nocturnally-natured captured for their own grandeur minded movie clip highlight reels.
Famous for a fleeting fifteen seconds and grasping for more like an addict reaching for a fix.
Once the darts are cast though they stay in formation until they strike, spot on, and the target's heart will be bilked like the bull's last stand.
Crimson and cutlery on the news report with a smile and a song.
We have to listen to the reports from David and Paul when their honesty shines for the wayward souls so lost that even Saint Anthony would have trouble finding them.
(c) & (p) 2012 subconscious mind publication company
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