News of the day: from grim to just plain dull.
It has been ever thus since Adam fell.
Hip-hop vernacular grows quickly stale.
It's time to put the winter boots away.
Soon, we shall have a fourteen-hour day.
iPods and cellphones on the noonday bus.
"The very bastard son of a mongrel bitch ..."
Squawking of seagulls or the crank of crows?
The Muses are not easily astonished!
They can detect when skill and strength have vanished.
Cloudless cerulean, no trace of white.
Still, we prefer the teeming stars of night.
Nightmare: I failed to save a long lost friend.
Gregarious in solitude, strange scribe
Who bids his muses romp, carouse, imbibe.