RADISSON OLIVES

Radisson Olives
PM1303162

The sun shines, melting all the snow of

the previous night, all the vestiges of a hard night of

work destroyed in the twinkling of an eye.

I aspire to vanquish the storm clouds

on the horizon and deep inside my mind

but they remain, fluttering eyelids will not

make the blackness disappear nor the

cold icy blast of Arctic air that comes

streaming across the parking lot and taking

up room in my heart.

Though my feet may freeze and my fingertips 

turn black and fall off,

I cannot warm them, not even by

sticking them directly into the epicenter of

a fire, icicles still dangle, tauntingly,

and I can only wonder how the fuck that 

is possible.

I feel the poison building back up in

my brain,

every time I breathe it is there to

remind me who is in control and the

amount of time I actually have left.

The poison, whether up from my heart

or downward from my brain, its trying

to destroy me from the inside out and

I can't see far enough inside

to get the poison out. If I can't see

it the doctors will claim its not there

but I know it is there and I can feel

it slowly digesting the insides of my

skull cavity. All this time I thought

it was my teeth, but it goes far deeper

than that.

To truly rid myself of all poison I would

have to cut off my own head,

not a viable option,

at least if I am still deciding to

keep on going.

Can't make a go without the head.

Blow it all out disintegrating tissue after

tissue,

the only way to survive but it will surely

catch me one day,

one day it won't stop until every

ounce of fluid has been drained from my

body and I will remain, mummified,

in whatever position I happened to be in.

Other choices exist but I am blind to their

existence, be it dictated by intelligence or

even common sense, both curiosities I'm not sure

I possess.

Turning over I wonder if the next

breach will be my last,

will I feel something inside me

permanently detach and spell out

the last thing I will ever do.

Will I drain over a clean surface

leaving a blot or stain where I once was,

or will it simply be washed over with a

mop and a bucket of water and pine-sol?

The people I see here are getting dumber 

by the second,

so many vacant looks and equally

vacant stares,

they ask me questions while the answers

are there, open, right in front of their faces,

yet they don't possess the eyesight to just reach

out and take it.

It would be so easy,

yet life is not easy and it never 

promised to anyone to be easy,

they certainly got that one right

as an unfettered run is next to

impossible.

I glimpse into the future daily and I

never see that silver lining

that is rumored to exist in each cloud,

only endless billowing that seems so

light, yet weighs us all down with such

excruciating force and dexterity.

You want to blow it all away with a hair

dryer but there is no extension chord long

enough to reach to the sky for that purpose.

Instead you watch them and try to

figure out what shapes they have transformed

themselves into on that day,

when you know deep down that it has only

been a matter of chance,

and surreal exercise in your mind.

A dog, a cat, Otto Von Bismarck, you can turn

them into anything you want to.

I prefer land masses to people or animals,

you can't insult anyone that way,

how can one not appear to be fat if they

are told they look like a cloud?

Furious rage is beaten down onto your head

as you try and make sense of every

oxymoron you have ever heard,

and you have run out of ideas on how

to make any more.

Bittersweet irony was the only irony ever

invented.

MCC

HOME FOR THE HOLIDAYS

Home For The Holidays
PM1303161

John Fitzgerald Kennedy International Airport, New York

City, the bar looked out on to the various

runways, while planes from the world over

taxied by, filled with wild-eyed vacationers,

some heading home, possibly for a funeral or

maybe even a birth,

long shot case even a circumcision, but then

again, why would they be leaving New York.

I ordered my third whiskey sour and decided

maybe I should slow down, I had four or

five hours to kill, most could be done in front

of this window but if I fell asleep I would get

in trouble.

Royal Air Maroc, LOT and Aerflot, one behind the

other, I guessed Casablanca, Warsaw and Moscow

and I was probably right. I could 

make out the faces inside the tiny windows

and no matter the amount of happiness it

was always overpowered by the fear.

The Fear.

The fear of crashing into the ocean,

the fear of being late,

the fear of a mid-air collision and your

body disintegrating beyond recognition.

The fear of a customs dog picking up on the

scent of marijuana embedded in your

jean jacket no matter how many times

you had it washed,

how long would you last in a South American 

jail,

and would they even notify anyone to come

and get you out?

I doubt it.

It's easy, just don't get on the plane.

Not so easy, I already checked my luggage,

it will go anyway,

and how do I get back to Toronto,

I don't have a return ticket.

Avianca flight # whatever, I'n not going to

Bogota, finally I see the Aerolineas 

Argentinas jumbo jet move down the tarmac

and into a dock.

At least I know the plane is there and I

forget everything else, instead deciding to have 

another whiskey sour, I wish I was back

at school and the holidays were over.

By the time I'm ready to board, I'm drunk,

by the time take-off rolls around, I am asleep,

somewhere over the Amazon I awake to

find they have kept my meal warm and the flight

is running smooth as silk.

Ezeiza in the morning, just in time for breakfast.

MCC

GRASS WEEDS

Grass Weeds
PM1303154

The fear chased after me on Saturday and

Sunday but did not overtake

I was too quick.

Forgetting about work I set in strongly

and protected myself from her evil work,

the way she pulls at my brain stems and

tries to clog up my heart,

stopping the blood and killing me slowly,

I don't know how to react but I know I

must run,

not to feel the steely, icy grip that cannot

be unclenched by even the greatest will.

No matter how fast I run there is never

a good place to hide,

when I come upon one that seems good

enough,

I talk myself out of it, bad reasoning

as to how it can be breached and

how long I will last in the shadow.

The shadow moves faster and will still one

day envelop them all, I know this but I must

run from it anyway, knowing the day I am

caught I will beg to be tortured but it will

refuse and I will have to face it fully sane

and fully clothed.

It is not what I fear but is also

everything I fear at the same time.

I will be forced to stand up straight,

shaking knees and sore feet will go

against me but I will be held up by a

power yet unseen, blood will harden and I

will stand as rigid as a statue,

hovering over an ancient background,

fallen bodies and blood long replaced by grass

weeds and wildflowers, a blight upon the

existence of man yet the beauty of nature

overcomes all. One foot lies firmly embedded

in the sand while the other is just as secure

entrenched in the mud, neither can break free but

one isn't as bad as the other.

I cease to struggle, it only makes matters 

worse and I wait for the light to come on

and blind me in it's magnificence. I shield

my eyes, waiting for the blindness that will

soon overtake me, I welcome it as much

as I fear it.

Here comes the candle to light you to bed,

Here comes the chopper to chop off your head.

Winston, you should have stayed in your own

apartment, things were a lot safer there.

MCC

REVEILLE

Reveille
PM1303153

The rain beat down on the window,

lulling me to sleep and keeping me awake

at the same time.

I looked up but couldn't see, pure darkness

except for the occasional flash of lightning

that illuminated the room for a few brief

seconds, actually making things eerie

and more frightening.

The luminous dials on the clock showed

four-thirty, not enough time for a good sleep

but not late enough to completely give up

and rise to start another day.

The fear had set in long before the loneliness

and I clenched my eyelids tight hoping

that whatever was there didn't exist, or

at least would go away.

Opening my eyes would only bring it to

life, I could see no evil and there would 

be no evil.

I could picture any over-exaggerated,

sabre-toothed monster which would quickly

turn comical and I could just laugh

the fear away.

Other times I would overdo it and absolutely

scare the shit out of myself.

I could try to scream out a name or

be primal, but nothing would elicit from

my throat as I tried in vain to force the air out

of it. Nobody around to hear the scream

anyway, the people upstairs screamed all

the time and I never went up there to see

what was the matter, I didn't care about 

them so why should they care about me.

I rose finally, shaking off the mental pictures

I had created and went to lie on the couch,

the living room was brighter and dawn was

making an entrance.

As I looked outside I could see the trees,

indistinctly but I knew they were there. It was

still raining and the whole world had

become wet overnight, the snow was almost all

melted and an eerie, greenish brown lies

underneath, yet carrying the hope that

spring is going to come sooner or later. I lay

on the couch facing the front window and the

sky is appearing painted in loneliness, I watch

as the dawn slowly uncovers everything and

reminds me where I am.

After preparing a pot of

coffee and lighting a smoke, I ponder the future and

try and decide if I should search for a job

that day.

MCC

EILAT BEACH

Eilat Beach
PM1303152

The cops had caught him fair and square

but he couldn't bear to be arrested,

he had shot his mouth off too many times

down on the beach,

accepting a few free Maccabees he had

spilled the beans, where he had done it,

who he had done it to, and how he had

got away with it. Luck was on his side as

someone heard him, and turned him in,

instead of leaving it to vagrant justice.

They would have beaten him to death,

I know, I saw it happen a number of 

times and became sickened to my surprise.

Blood flows so crimson and wide, staining

pavement for yards around the victim.

First the cops surrounded him,

there were five of them against one,

nobody would come to his aid after what

they heard, as if fearing injury they all

pulled out their batons,

five batons, one head.

He screamed in pain as the first two hit

his skull, but fell silent as he fell down,

they continued to pummel his lifeless body,

as it lay on the dirt floor.

They stopped as the bleeding became heavy

and worry overcame them as they feared

they might have hit him one too many times,

one felt for a pulse and upon realizing

there still was a faint one they grabbed

him by the hands and feet and began

pulling him out of the bar. He left a

trail of blood in the dirt as they dragged him

out, through the window I watched as they

threw him into the back of a van. They 

could have done that to anyone, I thought,

they didn't even question him. I had half 

a pint left but I couldn't finish it, it had

gone sour and the smell of blood was

making me ill. One of the women from

behind the bar began sweeping up the clots

of blood lodged in the dirt, cursing all of

us as though we were all animals and

we all deserved to be dragged out of there

unconscious, hardly a good way to make any

tips but her hatred ran deep. I left my beer

on the counter and walked out into the hot desert

afternoon sunshine and tried to draw some life

from the awesome heat. Nothing doing, my blood

had run cold and it would take more than forty

degrees to warm it back up.

MCC

SCHOOLDAYS

Schooldays
PM1303151

After the surprise beating to the hands,

six mighty whacks on each with a leather

strap,

following the even more ignoble punishment,

the ultimate blackmail, unfulfilled,

I make a beeline for the door,

yet reaching there I find my hands are too

sore to manage the knob.

I twist the gnarled claws and somehow

manage to awkwardly wrap them around

the knob,

then I twist my body instead of the hand

to turn the knob and get the fucking 

door open, my comical antics create

laughter, elicit mirth from the two ogres

relishing my discomfort, knowing they

have been absolved by a signature of my

father who allowed the torture.

When questioned later about why he

allowed these events to transpire he

joined the ranks of millions of Germans

who claimed and asserted they had no idea

of what went on behind the fences and the

gates.

Absolution! Absolution, what you can't

see, doesn't exist in some scenarios,

most severe punishment, the way it os

described in the brochure, most severe

punishment, here is how it could

have been more truthfully described;

Your child will be approached by an overweight,

porno-collecting pedophile with a foot long

leather strap which he will apply to your

child's hands with as much energy as he can

muster. To add insult to injury he will

also laugh at him as he tries to open the 

door to get the hell out of there and to top

it all off he will make him lead the entire school

in grace at lunch that day.

Possibly your child may also have been forced to

perform fellatio on the chaplain earlier that

morning and that's how he ended up there in the

first place.

I'm sure attendance and enrollment would have

suffered if that notice had shown in the brochure.

The alcoholic pedophile resides six feet under

at the moment and I can't think of a better

place for him, the other, I'm sad to report,

still lives, but I need to know what he is

living with and if he ever thinks back to

that morning and smiles, or throws up,

I need to know.

MCC

VOICES

Voices
PM1303142

The rope continues to pull tighter

around my neck as absence 

wears off and reality once more

comes crashing down like a ton

of bricks.

How could things get so boring again,

so quickly,

forgetting the daily drudgery and

ennui, the fools,

oh so many fools and the day's

endless landscape pushing on towards

the evening as I await the gun to

go off and I sprint off the blocks,

out the door and back into civilization.

I have broken my scythe, my hoe

and my spade,

laid them all down by the side of the

road, waiting before dousing them

all with gasoline and springing back

in alarm at the instant wall of flame.

Picking up the charred instruments

I realize the futility and wonder how

long it take me to get new ones.

The rumor mill never ceased during

my hiatus and I wonder how I have

kept my job if even half the things I

have supposedly done had proven to be true.

The cool spring breeze whips around

the flag outside and I am forbidden

to join it up on the pole,

to overlook the four city blocks

and to watch over all who pass

beneath me.

I can't sing to the heavens as they

have been closed over by clouds opening

up to the brightest sunlight or the

billion dollar downpour that would

threaten to drown me if I dared to

open my mouth.

I feel sick to my stomach right now

and I wonder if it churns for the

present or is still upset about what I

fed it last night?

Hours pass as I sit here and lament.

The void is never filled and the flood of

tears passes quietly into the drain and

never amasses enough to drain my misery.

From a distance I can hear someone

yelling and I wish they would just shut

the fuck up or at the very least,

lower their voice.

Who am I to tell someone else to shut up?

Why, I'm the poor idiot, sitting here

at my desk, and I'm the one who has to

listen to it.

One accurately thrown rock would be enough

to solve the problem, sadly, there is never

a rock around when you need it.

MCC

ATTITUDE CRISIS

Attitude Crisis
PM1303141

Minding my own business one

day, I was approached by a

woman in a subway station.

Friendly enough, she said hello,

and waiting for a bus I was 

bored so I said hello back.

She then said to me,

"I noticed you standing out

here and I saw that you

were smoking."

I replied, " Yes, I was."

"Don't you know you

aren't supposed to smoke out here?"

"Well," I said," I was alone and I

didn't think I would bother anyone."

"Well, I noticed you," she said.

"You know," I started, "there are usually

twenty busses out here at

any given time and their emissions

are far worse than anything that could come

from one little cigarette."

"It doesn't matter, it's against the law

and I noticed you," she was actually

turning red.

I sensed the talk was about to go south

so I took a different tact,

"You know, its funny, you keep

saying you noticed me but why is

it that I didn't notice you?"

She looked confused, "I don't know

why, I was right there inside the station."

"What, right there," I pointed inside the

station to a bench behind the

glass.

"Yes, right there, you must have seen me."

I smacked myself in the forehead as though

just realizing I could have had a V-8,

"I know what happened," I said, "I

didn't notice you because,

unlike you,

I was minding my own fucking business."

Her jaw dropped several inches, then she

turned and stomped off, heels clicking on

the concrete.

As my bus pulled away I saw her

approaching, accompanied by a very

bored looking supervisor,

I tried to wave goodbye but she

didn't notice me as she had spotted

another criminally insane smoker hiding

behind a wall in the distance.

Meanwhile black exhaust

fumes belched from behind the bus

and hid her from view as we turned

the corner and sped over the bridge.

Where have all the good times gone?

MCC

OCELOT SPLEENS

Ocelot Spleens
PM1303037

Looking in the mirror

I see a shell and that shell

is me.

My face is sinking into itself

and gravity is taking it's toll

on my body.

I try to lie down as much

as possible to stall the downward

motion but it continued

and I succumbed.

Winter is long gone but I

still fell it deep within my

bones and even if I light a match

I can't melt the ice that has

formed in my veins

and I realize you can't put

out a fire with more fire,

you need water and lots of it.

Back to the mirror I look

deep into my eyes, a void now

whereas it used to be a kaleidoscope.

All the sparkles have fallen to

the bottom and only spinning

white remains and I only get dizzy

when I try to turn my ears

to try and make it work.

I jump headfirst into the ocean,

knowing that I risk breaking my neck

on a sandbar.

The stingrays and jellyfish

are forlorn as stinging an

already paralyzed body is a

sheer waste of resources and

punishable much later.

I open my eyes, underwater

and once the initial

saltwater sting goes away I

see the most amazing hues of

green and blue, aquamarine

and amethyst, colors that surround

my head and beckon me to rise

but my mouth is full of

sand and my neck is broken.

I am unable to breathe but I

can feel the water filling up my

lungs as the pressure forces

the air out but luckily I am

already dead so there is nothing

left to explode.

I am splayed and flat on the

sand and the tide will soon wash

me up on shore or bury me for

a time, hopefully preserving me but

I know I will be found,

mostly eaten and decayed.

Look before you leap,

or don't leap unless you

have a general idea of how far you can fall.

MCC

LIVING WELL?

Living Well?
PM1303036

It strikes me as being so 

silly that the end could be as

close as it is but I manage

to steer clear of the precipice 

by nothing more than luck.

While wondering how it could

be over so soon I also wonder

how it lasted so long.

So many daring, idiotic choices

that should have ended in complete

disaster instead of just mild failure.

I always envision the failure

before I imagine the success,

and if success ever came out on

top I would be swept away with 

the debris.

I wasn't born to succeed and

therefore I can never let myself

down. I can sit still and stare

the present right in the eye,

not react and smile as I begin

to go down with the ship.

I feel the sting of jealousy as I

watch those who took what was

owed them and wallowed in it.

I could have had all that and whether

it was stolen out from under me

or I was too stupid to accept it

makes no difference now.

All those friends they have 

could have been mine, they stole

them from me as I was too slow

to catch up and I was left behind

on the wayside,

refusing to believe that I wouldn't

be offered automatic acceptance.

I willingly let it go but I still

feel as though I was robbed.

Revenge?

Not possible, where would I start

and with whom, my name and face

are all but forgotten,

the sheathed sword crashing down

on my face is only a mere memory

to me, surely non-existent

for the one who wielded it.

Yet I can see his face now,

comfortable, smiling, not a tear

or pang of remorse evident.

Forgotten over thirty years ago but I

still feel the pain and the

embarrassment, the laughs, snickers,

clucking of the fucking tongues,

another instance of stolen

pride which I shall never have

returned to me,

because you tossed it out, seconds

after you took it away from me.

MCC

PARADISO

Paradiso
PM1303035

More eyes have descended

upon me as I slept and I

awake to find myself at the

bottom of a pit.

The walls are built up

of stone balconies and I

languish at the bottom under

a bright light, a Klingon trial

of sorts if my memory

serves me correctly.

I have already lost the battle,

the war continues but only

mop up operations are being carried

out as the damage is

severe and healing is impossible.

I wince as I am pricked by

the morphine injector,

I guess its over, they only give

morphine to the ones who are

going to die anyway,

Oh, well.

The penalty for not being able to

co-exist is banishment,

not just from paradise

life, as well, as if the very idea

of existing somewhere else is just

as unacceptable.

I hit the ground with my mind 

running but my feet are motionless.

If only I could get the 

two in sync, or even just the feet

moving would be enough to get me

the hell out of there.

But I am too slow,

and even the weakest of their

warriors has no trouble catching up to

me and slicing my head clean off

my body.

I watch my head roll from the

inside, spinning and spinning,

I become dizzy but there is no

pain and my head finally rests

against the stone wall.

The walls are wet and drops of

water fall on my face, while I

close my eyes to shield them I

realize I will be unable to

open them again and my

fear becomes reality. Slowly, sensation

leaves and I feel myself

fading like a fine perfume mist

that is there one second and then

gone the next.

My body is miles away and my

head is detached,

I have discovered Xanadu but

I can't get the lock off the gate,

I have forgotten the combination.

MCC

COLD WATER IN THE FACE

Cold Water In The Face
PM1303034

Caught myself being the butt

of another head game this morning

and I realize what an idiot

I have been.

I have descended, unknowingly

back into depression.

The signs were all there but I

was just too stupid to read them.

Foolishly I let my guard down

and I let it go too far,

I don't know how to stop the 

descent, if I did, I wouldn't

be in this situation in the first

place. How could I not see the

train coming into the station as

I continued to look for quarters

on the tracks?

The pain in my chest which I

thought was from smoking too

many cigarettes turns out to be something

different, completely different.

Why didn't I notice anything when

I found myself wandering around

the house at three in the morning

again, smoking right at the door

because I feared the witch had returned

to the back yard again?

I am not a smart man,

even though I have tried my

whole life to convince myself that

I am. I dig holes so deep that

there is no hope of escape,

and instead of burrowing my way

upwards I either keep digging down

or I just lie there at the bottom

and wait for the inevitable.

I fear the inevitable even more 

now, and I know its because it

has managed to creep its' way even

closer to my being.

When did the healing process stop,

I thought I was still in the middle

of it,

but apparently it deserted me a while

ago, snuck out the back door and

now I can hear the screen door banging

in the wind.

Years of attempting to recognize the

symptoms have failed as I wallow

in the pit, what a pit of despair,

I didn't trip along the edge, no,

I just walked right in up to

my neck.

Put your arms out and try to

swim against the tide if you

can, when salvation appears to you

simply slip below the waves and

let it take you while you are warm,

fighting makes you cold.

MCC

SPIDER KILLER

Spider Killer
PM1303033

Stressed out again I soothe

my conscience by watching a cat

play with a spider she has just

caught. She bats it around and

when it realizes it has run out of

room to hide it curls itself up into

a ball and pretends to be dead.

The cat is miffed, as its' toy is no 

longer playing by the rules. Patiently

she sits there and watches as the

spider slowly uncurls all eight

legs and decides to make a run for

it. Once it moves the cat is quick

to pounce and the ballet begins

once again. The game continues until

the cat gets bored and in one bite

she chews the spider up and it is gone

forever. With what can only be 

considered a smile on her cat face she

ambles off in search of some other

prey, the poor spider quickly forgotten.

While it was curled up in a ball on

the hardwood floor, did it rue the fact

that it had ventured out at that exact

moment without the ability to check and

see if there was a cat around,

probably not!

Did it for one moment think about

its life and maybe come up with

some better ideas on how it could

have done things differently?

When did the spider realize that the

game was over and that its' next

destination would be a cat's stomach

where death would come quickly

mixed in with water, Performatrin

and chicken-flavored Temptations?

What had it left behind and how many

flies were caught in the abandoned 

web it had left, useless now unless a 

scavenger spider happened by which was

more than quite possible

Maybe it was old and it had ventured

out to die anyway and I

should not have become so worried about it.

I'm sure I kill one or two spiders

every night just by walking to the bathroom

in the dark.

The bells are ringing now, death tolls

a little late for the adventurous

spider who took the wrong turn at the

wrong time only to run into a bored

cat that couldn't appreciate the life

force in such a small

A cold, calculating killer

disguised as a lovable creature.

Who doesn't love a cat? But don't leave

your mice alone.

MCC 

CLEARLY THINKING OUT

Clearly Thinking Out
PM1303032

Who else has come to the 

conclusion that the human

race is a pretty disgusting group

of serious misfits? I sit here and

I just watched a guy walk out

here, clear his throat which sounded

like Rat River Rapids and then

spit on the floor not thirty feet

from where I am sitting.

Keep aware of a number of factors,

this is a loading dock, there are 

many doors but there are also

four structurally sound walls,

a ceiling and a concrete floor

so there is no way this area can be

misconstrued as being outside.

Thirty feet is a good distance, I 

can't even see the offending sputum

from where I sit but I am very

aware of its' existence.

Most importantly I have to pass

back and forth across that path

fifty or maybe even sixty times

in an eight hour shift so I

can hardly ignore it. I guess I

could just clean it up, but fuck that,

what I should have done was

corner the guy, slap him silly, 

and then rub his nose in the offending

smoked-oyster like globule of phlegm.

Alas, had I done that I would

certainly be out of a job right now

and perhaps even be up om some

sort of assault charge all because

of this pig who could have easily

opened a door and spat outside.

My dilemma worsens as I am

at the beginning of my shift and

I have the rest of the day to think

about this crap. Hopefully traffic

will be my saviour and the gob

will end up on the bottom of someone's

shoe and then end up transferring

to the floor of their car and I will

never come into contact with it

again.

Today I will let things slide

but if I ever run into this guy

spitting on the floor on here again I

will have to say something and then

just hope that things don't get too out

of hand afterwards.

Obviously when he did the action

he was not aware that there was

anything wrong with it so how do

you go about educating someone

like that? When reason fails the only option

left is to rub their nose in it.

MCC

LOVE THE RULE

Love The Rule
PM1303031

Understanding of the rules

is clearly not enough as you

are required to follow them as

closely as you are supposed to

read them. learning that was 
easy enough but following 
the actual path has proven to 
be difficult, if not impossible.
I've said it before that
humanity is doomed and nothing
has occurred in the world in the last
thirty or so years to refute my
prediction. I am Nostradamus
without the need to provide
specific events, dates or even places.

I run into complete stupidity 
every day and I have ceased to
be taken aback by it anymore,
they have won.
I always give them a chance,
hoping the right thing will be done
but it seldom is.
The ones who should be shot in
the back of the head are the ones
doing the shooting and there aren't
enough mops available to soak
up all that crimson tide.

All the good people seem to be
taking the kicks to the balls
and they are too stupid to
pick them back up and have
them sewn back on,
one more victory for anarchy.
The ones out there shouting Hallelujah
and cutting off heads in the name of
good are the ones who have finally
taken over the world.

I am not quick enough to
recognize the bad ones anymore,
as I have been fooled too many times.
I no longer remain rational and
they sneak past me without even
nodding their heads.
They witness the weakness and they
feed on it, slowly at first, but picking
up speed they manage to devour
right down to the bones.

I have become powerless,
as opposed to just having less power,
and I must find another way to
survive or I will end up on the
tarmac with tire tracks being the only
testimony as to how I met my maker.

I would sing, if only I wasn't tone
deaf and I would dance if only it
weren't so stupid, which leads me to 
the reason I talk so little,
I very seldom have anything important to say......



MCC