Par Four (final par)
PROLOGUE: Part One: seven year glitch
#Philosophy #Versus #Truth
PAR FOUR
The Aforesaid—Revisioned
Saturday, Febru 29, 6029
.°○.
On Final Haiku
Sat, Feb, 26; 6027
Jaunting—because of time and tide.
Yezebel, my wife, if i can still call her that—left us for 50-50. 3 days ago-with the help of Univerxal Pageantx Ministry. Her dad the new owner, her new boyfriend, its old CEO.
So, we both made mistakes these past 7 years. But taking our daughter, Aivaly, my raising—her only 6 yrs, granted she isn't biologically mine. It hurts.
Her bio-dad both kind of deadbeat—the segway is as Yezi put it, "Leaving YOUR 1 year old son 'behind' and not hers to raise—calling us even."
Well Even is sharing 50% custody-with his mom; an A-List Singer Of Ur—a mistake deadly for any unchecked marriage that hasn't hit Tabloidx—yet. I blew it, on her Annual Tour through Ontire, where I—we all lived, awkwardly crowded.
Finding Xocai was as finding a soul mate—who in this age could fell? Not out of arrogance, but out of those thorny desires, refusing to dampen their encroaching wetnesses—staying ember as anything warm—found her diary; book—life . . .
As 4 of my favorite things: Calif Coffees with Cream. Chiriq Hot Honey. And Palpoa, or Brado—Humbleweed. And on Ontire, where everything sticks better.
If The Moon Were Spotless—And Could Grow Dreams
Would the men smoke it;
Their women spike it in teas?
Age, wise. Humbleweed.
Xocai Of The Motley Thrones
Saturday, Febru 24, 4024
.°○.
See you in one or two years—now to check my emmail messages. Merry New Year Evesday! Or, Felix Ump Uni Evex! And between!
Yours truly and guide,
L.L.
© 2024 Leon Lamb
© Leon Lamb
#Philosophy #Versus #Truth
PAR FOUR
The Aforesaid—Revisioned
Saturday, Febru 29, 6029
.°○.
On Final Haiku
Sat, Feb, 26; 6027
Jaunting—because of time and tide.
Yezebel, my wife, if i can still call her that—left us for 50-50. 3 days ago-with the help of Univerxal Pageantx Ministry. Her dad the new owner, her new boyfriend, its old CEO.
So, we both made mistakes these past 7 years. But taking our daughter, Aivaly, my raising—her only 6 yrs, granted she isn't biologically mine. It hurts.
Her bio-dad both kind of deadbeat—the segway is as Yezi put it, "Leaving YOUR 1 year old son 'behind' and not hers to raise—calling us even."
Well Even is sharing 50% custody-with his mom; an A-List Singer Of Ur—a mistake deadly for any unchecked marriage that hasn't hit Tabloidx—yet. I blew it, on her Annual Tour through Ontire, where I—we all lived, awkwardly crowded.
Finding Xocai was as finding a soul mate—who in this age could fell? Not out of arrogance, but out of those thorny desires, refusing to dampen their encroaching wetnesses—staying ember as anything warm—found her diary; book—life . . .
As 4 of my favorite things: Calif Coffees with Cream. Chiriq Hot Honey. And Palpoa, or Brado—Humbleweed. And on Ontire, where everything sticks better.
If The Moon Were Spotless—And Could Grow Dreams
Would the men smoke it;
Their women spike it in teas?
Age, wise. Humbleweed.
Xocai Of The Motley Thrones
Saturday, Febru 24, 4024
.°○.
See you in one or two years—now to check my emmail messages. Merry New Year Evesday! Or, Felix Ump Uni Evex! And between!
Yours truly and guide,
L.L.
© 2024 Leon Lamb
© Leon Lamb