the fire burned high in st. martins wed night, with the moon casting faces in the ocean, casual kayakers killed it's liquid smile, as the children threw rocks at the flames, hopeful they'd fall straight to hell.
i wished you were here with me, and i wondered where the stars were in the sky that said i miss that.

i woke up thursday morning and played bingo with seniors and they grumbled and snarled as i took away their prized luggage and wheeled it to my car in front of them.

i ate nothing but macaroni yesterday