sweet as a eucalyptus, terrible as a tempest
of salutations and greetings
but of nothing, really.
ah but today i celebrate
turn my frown upside down
for my public
and God sayeth unto you
"you ungrateful little wench!"
"i shall give you something to really cry about soon"
around you souls are leaving
too soon too sudden
around you souls are being sucked
too leisurely too painfully slow
but you. hold your world still
trap your time in that blasted intranook
of stagnation
and you ask
where did your january go?
the nerve!
