Like the cipher fog of blue wave.
where the worst of the dust.
where the epic sleepy slothful migrant mutant mite still festers
where angry, unwanted, death stares null
where favored curvy legs, and whiskey syrup grabs the mantle.
where ridged nylon cracks sparkle crystal sound.
where void drinks coffee and spits dimes
where ash and forgo
where crystal blind , block of all,
demands to be left alone.

the limited beauty and palsies and so
each more stifled then the next
to live a foggy life

The white light was much to bear. Each person's mission vibrating on their face. She struggles with her wieght. He thinks slowly.

And in these times. And with this circumstance.

Hope was all but lost.

Broken dreamed fiasco's and murderous plots.

"Life is what I am."

"I will always live for life."

I've been pondering the concept of Justice lately--the idea that of all things, the only thing that can be counted on is Justice. And yet, this idea seems so over-whelmingly far-fetched. What with disasters like the Tsunami and all.

But this idea of Justice, that we all get what we deserve. Sometimes, you know, when all the synapses are firing appropriately. When the moment is just all synched up right, I can't help but see the consequence--How I have always had some chance to sway the tide.

What I mean is. Sometimes it seems like the only thing there is, is Justice. Like, what have I ever done to deserve this, Justice.

"Might who be scared?" said drunk Dingo.

"Might you be," laughed Finnegan. "Might you be, might she be, might the whole frigging lot of them be.. . That's the rub, Ding, that's the whole song of it. Folks are so shit afraid--dammed even if they admit they're afraid."

"Can't see what you mean there, Finn."

"Spooks and spectors, demon electors. Ah hell, Ding. Terror is key. So scared to acknowledge the mistakes. To admit your wrong doing in this."

"Ain't my fault."

"Hell Ding, if the lot of them would just come to terms--"

"Now there's a dame worth poking," said Dingo. He motioned to a very hot girl. Jeans that wore like syrup.

"And then you'd see. The wrath would clear. For a moment, no less."

"I'm not scared." Dingo finished the dark beer he had bought with the money Kind Ken gave him.

"As scared as a leaf in November."

There are many ways to tell a good man.

1) A good man is on his way.

he's not waiting for anything.