I lied, one more.

One more poem. I just wrote it and thought it necessary to catalog this. Nothing else need be said.

Fleeting Expirations

The whispering

echoes of freshly dried

memories crushed

as easily as petals by

the stages of expectation,

sail windlessly forever

raised, rampant, ruined

the cigarette butts extinguished and

the car speeds away as

the typhoon overcomes the

fragile city whose broken glass

glistens with pale evil

reminders of fame and fortune

wrung out and dried like a

sponge and too many holes

so deep and cold

our armies huddle with

tattered blankets

waiting for the miracle that never came

and also the masterminds that

let their cunning catch up,

plated sparrows caged

in fairy tale prisons

easily avoidable,

easily invisible

with the cookie cutter rejects

and smiling faces of humanity

most of all

the greatest desires of the soul.