TacTheScribbler

begins in the step between one ivory stair and the next when you take a breath-- sudden, dark and powerful throwing softened shadows into sharp relief. The truth between the top of the tower and the bottom is this: no one knows anything, and we all die. In my imagination, the sky is my training ground For interior decorating. "What do the shape of the clouds, or the colors tell guests about you? ...all about Impressions." And I am no better than those barbaric lions with notions of nobility clambering over the teeth of dead elephants. The truth is, these pretentious meta-thoughts Won't bring my family back to me Anymore than