I watch the ripples change their size
But never leave the stream
Of warm impermanence
And so the days float through my eyes
But still the days seem the same
And these children that you spit on
As they try to change their worlds
Are immune to your consultations
They're quite aware of what they're goin' through
Sunday, August 13, 2006
Done!
Just finished retyping “War Stories.” Finished at 6780 words. Was as high as 7150, was as low as 6720 at one point. I think what’s left is just a polish. I hope.
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