Fatguy's Journal

Hold an instant, new beginning, holding fast on born horizon.  Born beyond with little betwixt, trained in an array of dry fiction.  Belittling the scene seen once in the drain, one odd Ebenzeerte drove a stake into the deal, cut out the heart of the meal.  Trusted up, trundled out, dumped like a cheap rug on the heads of trouble.  When I last saw the effect, it was wreaking terrible chaos from a tiny throne, bleating of forgiveness and tasting of dry bone. Once there were twenty twenty visioned dilemmas aboard the the skinny schooner.  Today they've fuzzed beyond easy recognition.

               When, o when
                  does my berrypatch grow?
               With chicklets and filberts
                  all set aglow
                  by the blaze I have set
                  from the seeds I didn't sew,
               Bunnies fleeing, rats watching the show
                  As the neighbors beat my head blow 'top blow,
               And the constable comes to take me to row
                  19 aisle 29 F subset 99ZL2.

     The bottom of the page.  My old Nemesis.  So we meet again.  How many times and in how many ways have we met thus?  Ooh, there was