One day as I pondered my existence or my inability to let go of said existence actually, my mind for just a brief moment, glimpsed just a shadow of a truth hanging precariously over the abyss of forgotten insights and that truth was this:
that all that we are and all that we see, hear and touch will pass from this reality and be wiped away and forgotten as is a drop of cum on a $5 whore's lip after an engorgement of another cock and another mouthful of jizem belonging to another john who is another woman's husband who gets another virus from him so goes to another doctor for another dose of antibiotics so she won't pass the virus to another child in her womb that her husband can't afford to feed so he gets another job and develops another ulser from the stress that he tries to relieve by going to another $5 whore for another $5 blow job who gets a drop of the man's cock goo on her lip and wipes it away with another napkin and tosses it into another trash bin as she trots down the street looking for another $5 for another blow job from another woman's man. And that is all we are, a drop of cum on a crumpled napkin at the bottom of a smelly trash bin in forgotten corner of a rundown slum of an over crowded city somewhere south of Omaha. --G.Harding 12/2005