each moment shatters as we pass
day seeks to kill us with its heat
our very souls seem made of glass
to tell the truth might just be crass
our kind of people we won't meet
each moment shatters as we pass
makers of history come en masse
their bodies congest every street
our very souls seem made of glass
let each claimed victory surpass
the greatest admiral of the fleet
each moment shatters as we pass
what looks like gold is truly brass
the judge is lolling in her seat
our very souls seem made of glass
we're members of the fighting class
none of our foes will want to greet
each moment shatters as we pass
our very souls seem made of glass
Odd ravings, comments, and other wastes of time. Some are in plain prose, yet others are in rhyme.
11 May 2007
fragmentary
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