If I had my way...

I could easily devolve into an old man rant and maybe I'll just do it anyway. Tomorrow I see a new sawbones about my bloody leg and this, I pray, should be the final strokes on the tragedy of a surgery. Yawn. Anyway, life in the deep south has many advantages this time of year. The sunlight has found that special seam in the cosmos and turns all the day in to gold. Hearts are light, too, unbelieving that the sparsity of winter is just a handful of days away. I'm not sure where the next surprise will come from but I guess that's the beauty of that. Inspiration comes like a bludgeon but I've not felt that welcome weight on my shoulders in many a night. Samson is standing below, between my feet, and pushing on my columns. Someone tell him I'm not a Philistine.

Startin' to Ouch

It's that time of year when, after a wind, you can hear the leaves falling for minutes. Unfortunately, America's favorite fun blog is under repairs while I try to keep my leg from falling apart. It's beginning to appear like the surgeon in Chile was a witch doctor. Meanwhile, I haven't been able to get my camera out for a while. Stay tuned and something will turn up toot sweet. Happy Thanksgiving, world.

Forgotten Prisoners

Back to the grindstone, you might say as I have to hustle a meager living and feed Jonny Cat and other monkeys. Here's some unearthed words from the Grand Canyon last year...

Whisky on the rim

Moonlit canyon through the glass

Ghosts I remember

Night of luxury

The story can now begin

One more highway west

I keep coming back

Three feet from her memory

Embrace the future

Music in the room

Tomorrow fed by tonight

This life for the last

On this day, I remember.

Tricked!! Me!

As the day of the dead comes to a close, the spooky thoughts don't just go away quietly. Still fresh, also, is the memory of being pelted with eggs as we walked with the last of the children of the night. I've been tricked a time or two, but this was our first drive-by egging. But like a Teflon super hero, nothing could I find on my leg where the egg hit. I could possibly see myself throwing eggs at other men, but there were ladies in our midst which shows a serious lack of character amongst the tricksters. I'm sure some horrible ironic fate befell them at some time later in the night.

The sun before the hunter's moon has turned all the rivers of the south to stone, and some drown in dust without asking question. Time to invest in granite.

Always have candy and booze on hand for marauders like this one. A new kind of year starts for godless pagans and for others, the tilt of the earth itself will impose upon the flesh of us all. Time to start building and protecting our flanks, or working up some flanks. Your welcome.