In the days of Keith

                                       Beans and rice, where there are and were sweaty immigrants. There are a few interesting ways to make a buck, (this is not true), one with too much time on their hands says so.
                              The days of puppy dogs and sherbet have permanently left a sugar stain on my dusty flannel. The days of laundry do not exist to me either. And was anything ever worth it? In the days of war we had a reason to live. Darkness must be combatted with even darker oppressors. Kind of like in the Lord of The Rings trilogy, (actually this is not true either). The truth is to be left out in the days of Keith.
                                Waking up in Suburbia for a change this morning I was slapped in the face with a brutal inconvenient reasoning. Logic hung it's weightless silhouette in the corner of the room. The blinds were drawn. A pull- out bed that I awoke on shifted restlessly beneath me. The birds mechanically twirping outside my window seemed not really angry, but just disappointed. Nothing changes outside the womb., Where as nothing changes in the thick of the action.
                               What is in store for the rebellious soul? True repentance, I may not put a price on. Soul redemption comes the closest to me in artificial flavoring. Third world country parents do not even consider why it would be damaging to place handfulls of detergent in their childrens fruity pebbles, they just do it. Something can be learned from all of this.              
                                  Digressing now beyond the bitter filth, cofee grinds, and sticky contraceptives. We shall briefly place our ring- finger on the touch- screen of romance. One does not shit into a toilet in this realm, One only gently drops a few love droppings into a porcelain bowl. I may even venture towards a bodet in my Solitary years. But for romance there takes two of us, or more likely two of you. I have resigned my romantic longings to long walks in my new suburban neighborhood with my 4-year old past-abused one-eyed male dog that I have named Sarah. A biblical name I might add. We are huge Al Gore fans and do not believe in motorized vehicles. We are both Alcoholics on the other hand and need serious help but here is the bigger picture for you, WE DO NOT DRIVE CARS!, oh! here is all the difference in the world for you! Your grandchildren will be able to eat bananas after they are brown and mushy and have already begun the fruit-fly infestation.
                               Love, oh to  be loved. It is not everything. True it is definitely a thing. ,