The Loss Factor

The ravage of time leaves battered those
that fail to accept its brutality
and choose to ignore its influence.

The world ends for all of us.
And it runs fast
like the blade of a diamond saw.
If you think you're strong enough,
and if you have doubts,
then bring your hands forth,
and you will be cut.

This fact is an essential part of who we are
and it is something
that our busy, ordinary lives tempt us to forget.

Not until we lose someone close
or toe the line ourselves
do we remember
how very real and permanent death is.

And it is important to remember,

for the fleeting immediacy of life
provides the foundation
for the ruins of the soul.

It is from this one, unflinching slab of stone
that we build ourselves
and gauge our progress.

Its transience permits us to comprehend the weight of things.

It allows us to cherish our time alone
and with others.

It allows us to prioritize our moments.

It allows us to acknowledge which experiences
are worth fighting for.

My friends, you must never overlook
what a privelege it is

to feel the warmth of the morning sun
on your face. 

Honey Dews

There's an acidic taste to unripe strawberries
that can stir up your senses
like the faint scream of a blender.

Lately I've been taking bets on
grocery store honey dew melons,
which unsurprisingly so,
have almost all come up short.

Eating a bad honey dew
is like eating crisp, wet styrofoam.
It's like eating a dry, crunchy, gypsum sponge
that has been soaking in the limelight of a
middle-aged emerald,
floating in a stale, tropical lagoon.

The absence of flavor is astonishing.

It often takes the role of iceberg's slutty cousin,
wearing nothing but a wicker rind and some
sweet, misleading perfume.

Truth be told,
the honeydew smells better than she tastes.

And when I'm exploring a buffet,
and the honey dew is outside its natural habitat,
frolicking among a cornacopia of
kiwis, pineapples
and other tropical fructose,
I always strike my throngs into her mellow bosom
and give her an equal chance.

And if she beats the odds and actually delivers,
I make it a priority to spread the word.

"The honey dew is good," I will say,
"it's not crunchy and bland. It's pretty good this time."

However, despite the occassional revelation,
most of the retail store honey dews
I've breached
have fallen flat.

And more often than not,
the words of my memory are rendered strong:

Don't ever palaver with melons that
are manufactured to please the masses.

To eat one is to absorb the curse
of mediocrity. 

In the Name of the Rose

A rose by any other name
would smell as sweet...

except by the name
Ol' Horseradish Stink Taint

I'm sorry,
there's just no way that rose smells sweet.

The Young Professional

There he is...
the young professional,
early and clean,
sailing on aftershave,
cut and accomplished,
sauntering down 5th avenue
with a biscuit
and a cigarette.
His suit is made of silver butter
and woven from the soft, fine hair
of a tortured Chinaman.

The Daily Double

And today's Daily Double is:

computers

books

movies

sex

drinks

televisions

work

cars

sleep

pets

smokes

What are the materials needed to build an escape hatch?