The dull, gray sky

stares menacingly.

The bare boughs reach up to touch it.

How can one be happy in such weather?

LIFE

itself is BULLSHIT

The fire will not burn.

poke-poke-poke

Nothing but embers fly up.

No flames.

I think the cat's on acid

She's so neurotic

maybe I'll pop her a valium

The television drones on about

things I should buy

with money I don't have

hell must be like this

---CCC 11/87