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

Saturday, January 23, 2010

Submission Saturday

Trying to fill the weekend with writerly kinds of things. So I'm taking care of some works whose bit's were moldering on the hard drive, suffering from rejection. To that end, Prince Wanted is off to Electric Spec. And A History of Lightning is off to Clarkesworld. Good luck little stories.

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