Saturday, December 24, 2005

Merry Christmas

Out of the fog that envelopes the street walks a man with a beige trench coat. In the pocket of this coat is a disk, a disk with information the enemy would kill to have. The man enters the door of a house, walks down into an underground headquarters, and uploads the disk onto the internet.

Merry Christmas.

5 comments:

  1. Anonymous4:42 PM

    Hey Mark Collins:

    Eat it.

    Sincerely,

    The Magician

    ReplyDelete
  2. Anonymous3:01 PM

    The story of the Western's past
    Of Bloodshed, quarrel, unsurpassed.

    Along the broken, battered track
    She waits for you, and what you lack

    Hollowed eyes, she stands alone
    Upon her railroad's mighty throne

    Before the outlaw's trail of death
    The Vulture lasts to take a breath.

    Sisters part from what they crave
    and brothers for a father's grave.

    The poisoned bullets for her sin
    He flees from darkness with company men

    A Magician, Bartender both alike
    To start the war, the final strike

    The Vulture circles, aims to kill
    But left to die, and now is still

    This is how you found the beast
    This is how I found the East

    ReplyDelete
  3. Anonymous1:33 AM

    About the East, and of the beast
    Are paltry things we do not speak

    Second fiddles rush to flight
    And fools we do not suffer light

    Did you think we did not see
    What you wrote here, for he and me

    Or hoped in some vain ploy
    We'd take your terms, little toy

    The hat is tipped, in spite of you
    In light of what you tried to do

    A chance to be part of the riddle
    In time you will, my second fiddle

    Remember the West
    Forget the rest

    ReplyDelete
  4. Anonymous5:21 PM

    A paltry thing, is not the case
    Instilled in you is just the chase

    A warning now for all to come
    The time to beat your battle drum

    The war is here, but can't you see
    You've chosen the wrong enemy

    Listen now, to what I say
    Or in due time, you'll have to pay

    Loves great quarry proves too much
    They'll lose their lives within her clutch

    I'm not that of a second fiddle
    Ironically I'm in the middle

    Hold her hand and touch her face
    Behind the eyes covered in lace

    ReplyDelete
  5. The Ratiofarm here.
    Thanks for downloading Cloudmaking,
    and pointing out my foolish error.
    I do indeed have many stories.
    Have fun in Athens!

    ReplyDelete