In the morning when I awoke
To the sound of someone pouring a glass of coke,
Wishing I had one more smoke,
Thinking of visiting the folks.
Young man you can't do that anymore,
You're not the same fellow from those days of yore,
Gone off to fight the wars and learn the lore,
When you return, you returned to the slamming of doors.
What do you do now, you don't know.
You have reaped the winds and the profits you sow,
Took a dip in the water and got caught in the undertow,
You have no other place to sleep, and nowhere to go.
Adventures in plureality. Fractal fiction. Magical operations. Mental illness. Collaborative art.
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Nom de Doom
Trump, the mysterious talking cat that occasionally accompanies Max on his adventures, watched the news and sighed.
"If this keep up I'm gonna have to start using a code name," the cat meowed.
"If this keep up I'm gonna have to start using a code name," the cat meowed.
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