I drew two thick lines
Down the center of my face
To show everyone
Just where I cracked
The day the sky fell
Exposing the gaping black hole
Sucking my dear daylight
Tag: cracked
Wilfred Winslow, P.I. (day 678)
By Scott, we’ve got them!
We’ve finally solved it!
Mystery of the Seven Sins
It was a hard one
No thanks to lack of cooperation
But with your willing help, Newman,
With your clear logic and seamless wit
We’ve managed to crack them
By Scott! We cracked them good!
Did you see the look on their faces
When we surrounded them in that two bit diner?
They all thought they were free
Free as an eagle that soars…
Not a chance, not with us on their tails!
Ha! Those dirty rotten scoundrels
Locked away behind bars of justice!
Paying the price for thievery and cheating
Tell me Newman,
Did you think we’d get them
Did you think I was crazy
When I accepted the case
A private investigation case
From that half-wit Constable McLearan?
I had doubts, the robbery was seamless
Not a single alarm was sounded
Staff wasn’t alerted
Business wasn’t halted
No villains were filmed
No getaway car
No nothing!
Not even a transaction to trace!
But we got them
And we got them good
Wilfred can be purchased here.
From Without Within (day 354)
I have been watching myself crawl around these corners as of late, from the mirrors encircling this room that I lay upon
I quite enjoy the serenity of observing oneself from within the landscape of ones own charm
It’s like a close encounter with another, a feature that has never quite grown old and continues to grow
Comfort like a curve that has yet to be populated with the distinction of hair
These mirrors are not cracked at all, nor do I plan to crack them
Perhaps I grow old and shed my find cloak like the snake that glows
But I shall not tire of watching the curves of my eyebrows race their way south
Into the depths of my ear lobes and further towards my nose
I shall not grow weary of the assembly gathered upon my chest
Some of them curly, lots of them old crow
I don’t believe in alterations of the plastic kind
Those which require surgeons to enhance what doesn’t seem to exist
This is a modern folly, of which I am not victim
Perhaps it would be better I didn’t voice my opinion
I as my master do conquer what I’m made of
I listen to its lurches, I succumb to its will
I help it move forward and feed it more fuel
Today I have explored from without and within