although i’m still celebrating,
whatever that means
(herein read pre-dawn, beer in hand)
actually made it to a celebration
which was a most wonderful bonus
came home feeling the spirit
now i’m wondering why everything i try to write is the most worthless dreck
at this point i’m typing just for the exercise
a small requiem for profundity on this Halloween
munching on mini-snickers and fritos
corn for the harvest
candy for the memories of childhood
beer because i need to escape from this place and its bizarre objectification of everything
(so says the man eating fritos)
and oh, but we dream so hard, and so beautifully
because of the limits given to us by this human form
which brings us back to mortality
surely a more fitting topic for discussion on Halloween
but i only have one more snickers bar and the sack of fritos is running low
all around me the college kids have seized upon this annual opportunity to adopt a different persona, and fueled by – whatever it is that fuels college kids these days – are working out their pieces of the puzzles in the only way they know how; i keep peeking out my windows to catch glimpses of their fantasies . . .
how (some might ask) does this work into the concept of the dead being allowed one night to walk the earth?
- finite
(swearing that someday i’ll start making sense)