Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

What strange friends you have, grandma!
The better to tweak you with, my dear!

A wreath of cards

Is all I ever see

Of family

The breath of Andres Serrano whispers across a halo of hallmark.
Time, recorded on stationary cardstock, transfers itself from soul to soul.
One Botticelian angel French kisses another, or vomits mouth to mouth, or dies in the attempt.
Grandmothers cheek to cheek with grandfathers fight the good fight.
Christmas passes like a winking mailman in a Norman Rockwell winterscape.
Don't take the easy road, it's never as easy as advertised and always twice as boring.
Your slumber you'll rue when the time is short.
Blink once, miss the sun. Blink twice, miss the moon shot.
Don't take halos for granted.
Sing the song of familial devotion, love your blood, care for them, and beware.
Your own mesozoic endangered by comets unimagined.
Flash while the star is bright and keep a dusted shelf for the ephemera of ancestors passed.

ancestors all becoming faded songs
even the brutes
their photographs waiting patiently
it all goes backward into the depths of
then.