comonsteriotyp

as i count the miles back to normalcy on this insidious side street detour, i wonder if i should have stayed inside and never left on this journey back to mediocrity. as i grip the wheel that's bearing me back to normalcy and the freeway lights twinkle in my graying sky, my second-thoughts catch up to my high-speed escape routine, plastering their ugly sea-faces against my windshield. as my foot depresses the protesting pedal, speeding me away from the shrinking beach and back towards comfortable inland heat waves, my hands lie to me and spin the wheel. as i watch smiling safety glass splinter towards my eyes, the graying sky giv

        Jenni's outside, chasing her brother again.  He's been running for three years now.  She still hasn't caught him.  The neighbors have sent messages, whispering that she's crazy, that she needs help.  I don't know if I believe them.        Jenni and I grew up together, here in Road's End, New Mexico. We used to joke that the only people who ever came to Road's End were lost tourists, broke yuppies, and migrant workers who took the wrong turn on the way to California.  One time I asked Jim the librarian about Roads End.  He said that there must be a hundred towns named Road's End scattered all around the world.  Wherever settlers went

Days melt together, as one thought is on my mind. All I really wanted, wasn\'t so hard to find. I beckon to the darkness of the light that fades at dusk, and to the moon I whisper, and her boldness is enough. I wonder through the daylight, with not much to allude, but night seems to appeal to the thoughts that cause me brood. I am no faulty faker, I wish not for the world. I am but a drifter who once in the wind twirled. I smell his venom in me, When the moon is in the sky. and for this knowlege I spurn myself, for love is still a why. Pretend that you care... Pretend that you don\'t. Say you\'ll give the world, even if