Talk To Somebody           

Gorgo, I struggle, I hunger, remake myself, my town, and, after all,

sink down into nothing.

Supporting voices filled a white she-goat and yelled, “Tell great

kings without warning we have neither honey nor the story of

growing up.” In a sheep’s voice, the God of War, wiping his

cheek:

“I would have liked for the day to be different.” Tell everyone the Big

Picture will cloak the argument. From heaven, Sharon—just as I

was saying “Yes”—said nothing. Sharon was aware it wouldn’t

take.