Lovers in Space.

The farther you pull back,

The less it all seems to mean,

But looking in on a moment,

Bears all the significance.

 

The lights of a moving carousel,

the smell of pine and fried dough,

Smiles that wont go away,

Standing on the grassy dew covered hill and looking up at the fabric above,’

and wondering.

And not having to wonder alone.

 

Sky rocketing through the clouds and weaving among comets towards the vast uncertainty of the big ocean of reality,

Peering out from the cramped cockpit at a flinging tendril of star energy,

Not minding the close spaces or the empty floating candy wrappers in the cabin,

Or the crumbs, or the love.

There are filters after all.

 

Walking across alien landscapes and marveling together at odd temples covered with blue lichen,

Reaching for each other under a green sky,

and being human in a strange, futuristic land,

on another planet,

in the emptiness of all space,

two specks in the multitudes,

Knowing that when you pull away it all seems like nothing,

But here and now,

Is all that is.

all that is needed.

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My best gal.

“The wine is quite good.”

“pardon me?”

“I say- I say the wine is quite good.”

“Oh you think so?”

“Indeed I do.”

“Well it’s always good to hear that a man’s wine is appreciated after all the time and effort taken to pick the dandelions off the side of the highway.”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh yeah, it’s dandelion wine.”

“Really? i didn’t know you could make wine from dandelions.”

“Oh absolutely, Ive been making it since I was 10.”

“that is something.”

“Yep- And I haven’t been sober since.”

The man let out a horse laugh and the scent of fermenting liver and pipe weed emerged forth and entered sharply into the taster’s nose.

“I say, the aroma of your dying innards pares well with the wine.”

“Oh thank you sir, I really do try to maintain my demise as vigorously as my wines.”

“So do you only make dandelion wine?”

“Huh?”

“I say do you only make dandelion wine?”

“As far as I can tell.”

“Well…alright that should do for the sacrament anyway.”

“Always a pleasure to aid the clergy”

The year was 1930 and vaudeville was all the rage, the Sachemo kid and Kimmy Rats Bottoms toured the world-round performing their famous dandelion-wine-clergy skit. Tragically they died in an accident when 150 bullets riddled their car from the precision rifles of the G-men on the trail of Bonny and Clyde. Our fearless G-Men got them in the end though and just goes to show that there is no cost too great for our feds to stop the outlaw and the spread of communism.