they knew what they know before it began

It was strangest of times.

Endlessness served on a platter. 
Reality no longer on the menu. 
Evidence of life lay in the red eye flights
and kids plucking their eyelashes to receive more wishes. 

Dorothoy was perturbed by the immenance of the moss colored sun. 

The sky was swallowing even the tiniest of lives; one subconcious after another trickled into the stream slowly folding into a swamp. 
Buried, Buried, Buried like the bears beneath the transition from winter's sun to the bright spring comets--what's on their mind, what about the thoughts of others?

Mattered not was that I get fifty years while another being does not make it their seventh year in the school system. 
The sheer aptitude of sharing space--means our experiences include a couple spoonfuls of one another, a bit of warning but no vision anything more than a few notches on the calendar because that is not for us to find out until we stumble upon it later. 

Breakables forgot to move out of the way when sticky fingers mistook them for candy jars and the things were dropped by fate. 

How precious is it--we receive no plans--that there isn't a warning, not even a preview to what we will see and hear through the beginning to our end of time.

The new years are passing each with less memories or resolutions than the previous century. 
The solutions has to be undefined because who am I to reveal it's teachings to you before the thawing out. 
This period of burning your fingers on the oven, and these circular zones become the monsters of the world.
NOT ONE BUT TWO.

This happens like flies, turning the porch lamps black and the only light source left is mister moon. We try different methods--but is simple a well validated advancement?

The muscles aren't being worked and our memory has resolved to mush. 

Soupier with each passing second. The n down right beside the tarnished ring of a steelworkers first bond to be bound to a finger, an agreement; to make time go by you belong to me.

But what's a promise if by nature we can't keep it. what's a lie to all the truths that get told in the course of a day.

is anything nice?

will edit later,
casey