Todays thoughts stuck to buxom blondes who put out on the first date.
Not unlike dry sweat on a muggy summer evening.
Rolling the black silt between my fingers.
Oblivious to the raging ruin outside.
Unaware of the cages we've built
the temples we've burned
the monuments we tilt
Argumentative and inattentive
deconstructive and absent in all responsibility
future sight, tenure proofed
rationalizing the drudgery of the one third split
as my eyes sink and itch
as my lungs plead
opressed by balmy, morosely mundane routine
over scheduled, under employed, ever pragmatic, never sexed
Honey caught the fly
Fire caught the moth.