Saltine crackers for lunch.
A stickfire in a blizzard.
Raising peacocks when what you need is eggs.
Most first dates.
Owning a house, but no furniture.
All of junior high.
The exact moment when,
brandishing your knife,
you realize that you are in a gunfight.
This is a poem from my friend Brandon who has a really great blog I check daily. You should too!