Crossed Out.

October 24, 2015 — Leave a comment

Follow Stan around awhile.

Let him walk you through the rooms, structures, and clouds of his being that reveal junk drawers of “collectibles.”

All the things,

collected
and
kept,

but never
coveted
or
consumed.

Because he’s taught himself
or learned somewhere
that
ownership holds a mightier reward than what’s inside.

Anywhere.
Everywhere.

People. Places. Things.

Burn them all down.
Break them to pieces.

Let them spill onto the floor.
Let them expire,
and
evaporate back to nothing.

Beautiful,
delicate,
fragile,
or
rare.

It’ll make no difference.
There’s never been a there, there.

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