They all start the same,
Three stars on a page.

Well, they're not really stars, are they?
Just three circles with some extending rays.

But they must bring luck, or maybe inspiration,
Since I can still write with my muse on vacation...

Three hours I searched for that airport, lost on the highway,
Man, if I'd have found it, I'd have parked right on the runway.

I didn't, I stalled on a service road, out of gas and engine dead,
And laid on the cold concrete, contemplating blowing off my head.

I need not have worried, or wasted my time on doubt,
'Cause when her plane flew over it obligingly tore my heart out.

Three days I waited to hear if she'd landed,
It'd still be another three weeks before I felt abandoned.

Three years later I was still waiting, did I give up too soon,
The night my heart broke under the October moon?

I knew she was standing under that same autumn sky,
But I finally understood,
That she stood under it with some other guy.

These stars are all I have left of her, nearly three decades later,
Three thousand stars on a thousand pages,
That are really just the holes in old notebook paper.

Sullenly, I quote whilst I quaff

Softly stammered surcease of wroth

Consummately ****** I sputter and cough

Sloshed ale sloppily sopped

Spite shed, soft shadows soughed

Soggily satiated at brimful trough

I take a whole week to celebrate my birthday,

Just to make sure I don't sweep it under the rug.

And I've worn a mask what feels like my whole life,

But October is, by far, my least favorite holiday.

I suppose the knife was used,

More like a tool,

But having been stabbed in the chest,

To not consider it a weapon,

We'd be thought the fool,

So to give the story that final deft twist,

We were convinced the blade didn't exist,

It's a scenario Kaiser Soze simply couldn't resist.

🐭🧀

I am a mouse tempted by scent of cheese,

                                                        ­      I am a little lever,
                                                    by wightish weight released.

                                                                     I am the
                                                          daring
                                             domino,

         Tip me over and off I go,

Tapping-time-toppling
                                        just as mapped,

                                                       Chain reactions
                                                                ­               crashing
                                                                ­                          choreographed.

                                                 ­               I am the ball bearing on its
                                                                ­                                     tilted track,

                                                         ­            Precariously poised
                                                                ­    awaiting that last flat

                                                               ­               CRACK!

                                                       ­    Startling astart at starting gun,

Gravity-well-willing I wobbly-spin-roll-run,

                                          ­                Back and forth I wander like a top,

Dizzily confused when off the end I
                                                                ­     plop.

                                                  It's alright, everyone, I'm okay,

This cup was here to catch me...              luckily.

                                                  Ah, I'm the cup too, of course,

                                      Rattling 'round rampant without remorse.

                              It's not a problem, I've already served my purpose,

                                  Ball-bearing-brained, I was useful for impetus.

                                  Downward-driven delivering incidental dues,

                         I am now the toy robot set off on a cruise,

               Wheels turning, less one brain (lest I hurt myself)

        Wound-up tight only to travel the length of a shelf.

Gears ground, I spark-stumble-halt,

      I've kicked the bucket, but it's nobodies fault:

                I'm also the water cascading through air,

                                                           ­   Splashing happily,
                                                        but predictably,
                                                   to be fair.

                            Sloppily graceful I stick the landing,

Releasing the cage, design-demanding.

                      Mouse
                       lever
                     domino
                        ball
                        cup
 ­                      robot
                      water
                       cage

I might even be the little mouses tiny outrage.

It seems I was all the pieces of the trap I set,

Honestly, everything fits just fine, except:

We seem to be missing one of the architects.