Stand still and look at the ground and it will not bore you for at least a minute unless you are obsessive.

The future as a glowing spot, turning in place, shifting the nearby windmills, shifting and upsetting like a flaming flailing squid, a cosmos of possibility, newness as she exits the back door, to many back doors, then faded into the night, she was just a minor light.

A situation can be complex, you are confused, and search for answers, you find nothing but an eight ball and it fails, so you walk for miles and bump into the Tall Thin Man who dances while playing the violin. Nothing was so important as dancing with him, and behaving foolishly.

Things fall apart and come together as if by gravity, and they run across the green candy fields, as if falling, but somehow carried by the air, down and upwards to old deserted buildings once designed for love.

Paddles are used on poorly behaved bratty children, so it was great irony. Maybe the GOP spanked them, maybe not. But clearly they needed a spanking.

The American Spirit always forges ahead knocking out old wood and burning the rotten stuff, reaching eventually upwards, like a chariot.