Thursday 19 April 2007
YJ's Snack Cafe
18th and Wyandotte
Kansas City Missouri

The sainted preacher looked down upon them from the wall. His image had been frozen in a piece of artwork. With a tear running down his cheek in one expression, in another, a look of concern, then in a third he was posed in an expression of anger. He was shot down in that time when the world seemed turned upside down. There were many saints then, and many villians in the shadows. It falls to the shadows of imagination to picture these people. Maybe they don't exist, except in the imagination. Maybe everything was some ugly random coincidence. The imagination staggers to make that leap. It is easier to picture villains and conspiracies, than it is to picture loner nuts running around randomly exploding, and taking innocent people with them.

The winter relapse has done it's worst. Spring has returned with summer close on it's heels.