Given Ground

I need to go right back in and reread these long poetic short stories. Words creep around obviously trying their best to land upright long enough to tell you something is wrong and something is right. You don't get it? Look deeper. Look past the claw marks and the blood. The sharp odor of pine needles might cover up the smell of decay and poisoned liquor but tread cautiously, the apples have worms and the Greyhound sometimes keeps right on going even if you are standing tall, suitcase in hand trying your best to get out before it is too late.