Mosaic

This is it; this is my life. These are my thoughts, my hopes, and my fear of Miss Piggy. These are the things I like, the things I hate, and the things I've jerked off to.

These are the stories of events momentous or inconsequential. This is my biography or a facsimile thereof--cerealized. This is my life packaged into bite-sized pieces, ready for consumption.

These are the tall tales, anecdotes, vignettes broken and re-arranged into mosaic.

Squint and see the bigger picture.
















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Merry Christmas

First Snow

Like a child, the earth’s going to sleep,
or so the story goes.

But I’m not tired, it says.
And the mother says, You may not be tired but I’m tired—

You can see it in her face, everyone can.
So the snow has to fall, sleep has to come.
Because the mother’s sick to death of her life
and needs silence.

- Louise Glück

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Poetry - Schmoetry. Stuff that rhyme and shit.