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Sunday Squibs

 



My sins are all forgiven 

As though they never were 

A limp though ever lingers 

Acquired in the war



We supposedly learn from our mistakes. 

If I go into the ditch on the right, do I also learn there's a ditch on the left? 

Or am I on the Interstate?



Time is the enemy

He peppers with ack-ack

My little air craft

No going ba-ack



Autumn is the bull 

Winter is the bear

Know when to harvest

And when to hit the lair



In youth we inflict pain on ourselves

In old age pain seeks us out



Reviewing old diaries I feel like a snake looking at the skins he's shed,

Yet feeling like the snake of yore.



Christ's victory on the cross is like Gettysburg. The war will now be won. 

The question is how many more casualties before the enemy surrenders.



Fives stars are given by the enthusiast

I say, hold on buddy- not so fast



The beautifully curated life requires constant deaccessioning.



They say they're just tools, our devices

To chop up our day into slices

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