author's opening notes: Hey, aren't these things beautiful? - Well, this will be my dark, beautiful, interesting, [blahblah], awkward collection of sorts-of fiction and a lot of fun stuff mixed in. The zombies aren't in the first seven chapters (the one's I've already written at the point of first publishing this), but they're really hoping to join in.

:: character sketches? : tiny tales : s : adorable fun awkwardness : something that manages to be dark? : zombies, most hopefully : what might [have]be[en] love : 'n' chapter one:


Porcelain plates afeared of servings
lost for silverware and dead kings
fell upon the blacktop ocean and
hoped love's hunger wasn't done.

Boy tunneled through from winter moon,
his eyes the color of a spoon,
the angels found wanting him dead,
he looked down at his shoes and said:

"Hello."

Their table-talk prohibited,
they stuck the crumbs and closed the lid.
Wishing that they had only tried,
the circles turned the knobs and cried.

His lips held not hints of a frown
as from his moon he'd fallen down,
the angels found wanting him down,
he looked down at his shoes and said:

"Goodbye."

With sugar sweet, cherries and cream,
his death plates dreamed, woke from to scream.
They found him in a hurricane, still,
with dreams to kill and hope to chill.

Boy not imagined to have tears
hid from white lights with jars of tears,
the angels found wanting him dead,
he looked down at his shoes and said:

"I love you."

Storms later and their lifetimes whirled,
they all forget where they have been,
to say, he'll be king of the world
if he'll only say that again.

Silver crown offered for his head
of brown and lost things never said,
the angels found wanting him dead,
he looked down at his shoes and said:

"Sorry; I'm not history."