Snow,
like grace,
falls from heaven
and covers the sin-scarred world
like a blanket of righteousness.
But soon it melts
to black sludge
Because men,
like fish,
wear a layer of slime.
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
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English teachers think that streams of consciousness are a nightmare. Did they ever stop to ask, "What would it be like if my student wrote an essay or poem while laying unconscious in the back of a 1984 Wrangler?" They probably didn't, but this is the answer.
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