7th PERIOD Safe to assume we’ve probably got it mostly wrong, or if not quite wrong then likely a right that’s misinterpreted the question. That being said, students, the fact remains that at the construction site behind the classroom there’s a trailer-load of 2-by-10’s used to frame the concrete foundation that I struggle to believe they’re throwing away. Perhaps it would be a more advantageous use of our day were we to spend what’s left of class time shouldering lumber across campus to the bed of my truck. I, for one, plan on spending a few afternoons of my remaining puzzlement to puzzle together a table where my children can pick up the pondering where I left off. It seems as good a use of time as any. It's coarse work, but with every pass of the paper you can’t help but feel that you’re getting somewhere, like maybe, in the proverbial 8th period, we’ll get up from our desks and gather roun...
THE BENDS At a certain depth the voices all thrum at the same, garbled pitch. Both wisdom and the waiting swarm of bees call you up for air, both wisdom and the Anglerfish draw you deeper. Do you paddle faster from Leviathan or close your eyes and wait? Once inside, do you stab the tender heart or caress it? There’s leagues on leagues but we’re in out of ours and the tanks are low. You die if you come up too quick, you die if you don’t surface soon, and at this sounding we won’t be dragged out by the light of the moon. As to good news, t he returned ship sloshes vacant at port while the wreck is found at rest on solid ground, home now to an ecosystem riddled with life.
REFURBISHED The ladybug dies wedged in wicker, is spray-painted green. Disassemble yourself. Free trampoline. Not one to jump to conclusions, but if even pipe-smoke throws a shadow in moonlight, nothing is ever full- nothing, right? The trees agree to lower the veil and reveal the bare strip of road which runs behind the house. The white roar of leaving never leaves, and the porch light flickers but never goes out. In a world of partially resurrected things, the quick and the dead dance a tango then collapse in a tangled heap to make furious love till morning shakes the can and picks a fade-resistant shade of light.
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