Hey little bunnies I got news and it’s good news and no I haven’t got a million dollars yet and probably never will unless something real big changes. The little collection I made with some very handsome firends o mine won me a big dang trophy and I am so proud of my chickens lemme tell you. And now I get to call myself a one-award-winning editor Samuel Maguire for the rest of my career or at least until I win another one. If you would please record your applause and upload it to a usb and mail it to me for the next time I decide to give up on everything and resign myself to a fate of casual hospitality forever (1-2 months time). Anyway because I love each and every most of you, here is another poem.
The Rope Comes Often
Pits and tunnels
Dark and darker more
It’s so easy to trip and fall
Into holes and fires and freezing waters
But the path still goes under
Through despair and rage
And dark hunger
Writhing with the worms and beetles
You claw forward still
Inches still become miles in eons of struggle
And, just as often as you tumble
Though more forgotten
You see the rope
Of gold and light and warm things
And you dance as far as you crawl
Along hills and treetops
Or maybe
Along the path you often forget
Much further
Skydekkerix 