Habitattered

She earned a few bad habits along the line,

Like the gentle gnawing

Upon the rims of glasses

Chipping enamel base inches deep

Often occasionally breaks off a piece

Placing teeth on ice.

Farmed out the favorite scene

Broke jaw from emulating her scream

Battle.

Sometimes I like to write as if I was a telegraph operator during times of peril.  Typically it’s a war-time recreation.  Dash.  Dash.  Dash.  And so forth…Would be fun.   Kind of like speaking.  In tongues..  A variance in interpretation…  Yet really only one connection…One line of thought…one message…Process or Ignore.

How often are the children instructed to brutalize their neighbors?

Are parents teaching little man and darling girl, about the benefits gained from bullying all those little poindexters, Urkels and Earls?

Is society to blame?

Oh, who gives a damn about freedom of speech anyway-not when censorship contains so much promise?

-Tell that to the parent of a victim, innocent bearing but one crime- birth in the wrong school district- Touché

Yeah, I think it would cool, returning to some postcard scene.  Flyboy’s beware I’ve played Last Starfighter tens of times before!

Back in the day.  I’d find people and tell them how their legacies panned out.  I’d locate all those misfits and those ahead of their times, those living in duress- and explain all the monumental changes that exist in the modern age.  I’d find Rosy and tell her she’d fit in great today.  I’d grab a coke and tell the soda jerk- that the formula changes, then changes back, then changes again, then changes again- but not quite where it originally was, then changes back to the failed formula, only to revert it’s taste once more, but offering a bit of a different packaging and placing classic underneath it’s logo. 

I’d love to go to Vegas.  When it was all sand.  I’d grab a few and blow them to the wind.