

PotentialPotentialPotential
The dice skid across the emerald felt Light winks from the pips Hectic shouts drone from round the table Boxcars, snake-eyes, seven, or eleven They bounce, roll, teeter, stop
A few win, a few lose Is it luck, fate, the power of prayer? One thing is for sure, though Nobody bet on thirteen.


"So Long as it's Black""So Long as it's Black""So Long as it's Black"
I guard the quiet building through the night
whittling a wooden trinket for my son while I wait for morning.
Overhead fluorescent rods flicker to life, illuminating the vast assembly floor. The gears of gigantic machines begin turning, pushing the conveyer belts forward. Programmed robotic arms grasp pre-fabricated parts, each within one standard deviation of perfection. No flesh here but me, surrounded by the cold steel.
I watch small pieces on the belt grow swiftly as nuts and bolts are attached by the rigid, repetitive arms


Rose TeaRose TeaRose Tea
"Delicious," Jack says as a floral scent wafts
from the silky red petals floating
in his sweet herbal tea.
It tastes like the pain of a light that's too bright. "Diane," he whispers, "Why weren't you at
The Rose Café?"
The tea is tart and hot running over his tongue. The bottle of memory is hard to sip from, like staring through thick fog.
Jack snapped and Diane appeared before him in all her ethereal beauty. She danced in the vapor rising off his mug.
The water took hold with grasping hands
and pulled her in, on


He Wouldn't Have Survived"He wouldn't have Survived"He Wouldn't Have Survived
If sealed within a wooden barrel and sent to plummet over Niagara Falls, he wouldn't have survived the roaring white glory of that vengeful cascade.
If he had passed before a charging locomotive he would be dead, crushed beneath the unhindered, uncaring silver wheels that stop for no one. Not even him.
But all he did was break my heart and all I can do is flood my room with tears,
wishing I were that cataract and plow on through my life, trying to get back on the rails.
--
Let no one rob you of that powerful motivational force known as vision...seeing not only what is...but what can be.
--
You tell me we can start that rain.
You tell me that we all can change.
You tell me we can find something to wash the tears away.
Iron Maiden-Rainmaker
The Music of Athcear
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