Green Mill: The Kid

    "He likes chasing the shadows on walls" Daisy said with a straight face. Charlie realized that she could not be serious about her proclamation, after all the shadows on the wall stayed still, for the most part. "I've always known that The Kid was a little off" Charlie replied. The Kid had been missing for several days now, no one had seen him since he went into Witchipoo's house across the street. His parents called the police and sent out search teams through a ten mile radius of the Green Mill subdivision. They even searched Wichipoo's house and had found nothing except peeling wallpaper and old furniture. Daisy and Charlie sat on edge of the front porch their house swinging their legs, "What do you think happened to him Charlie" Daisy said in between huge gulps of lemonade and bites of ginger-snaps. Charlie stared at the flowery, overgrown, house across the street, "Maybe he fell in" he said.

Dew

Water seeps from all directions out of every crevice of your body. You feel scorched. Your thirst is slowly controlling each limb. Despite your struggle, you wear a fine countenance, well enough to fool anyone. You limbs writhe and twist aching for that precious extract that will slake all thirst in your soul forever. When you will find this substance is solely dependent on that sweet, sly, smile. How well can you fool others with your face? Only the results of your expedition will answer.

Designing the Stars

    You take my hands and spread them across the night sky sending infinite ripples into the universe. You take my hands and spread them across the star-struck lake with the same effect. We can affect this place; put the still things into motion. We can see the wavy reflections of our faces in the water; our heads are surrounded by halos of light and diamonds. I stand on your feet and we squish them into the supple mud encircling the banks of the lake. I stand below you looking up, not sure if the light in your eyes is a reflection of the stars or if it is your own. Our lights combine, piercing through the indigo veil above us, causing pin-needle holes to scatter above us. Our lights trace the outline of the trees that grace the azure-violet washed landscape. We are impressionists, skewing lines and creating subtitles in our foregrounds. We are creators of this lost universe: piercing, skewing, spreading, standing.

On Fruit

Fruit is a plastic-like substance which we store in our guts. It becomes translated into energy, or pollen. We can see fruit in many aspects of our lives, bathing, grooming, making love. Fruit is often times hard to catch, as it is quite hasty in its visitations. People often misuse fruit, in which case, it is automatically transformed into waste. Fruit can also be found meditating in the woods at night under a yellow harvest moon. Harvest fruit properly, or else it will turn to ash in your hands.