Hey that is a good line. "Autumn tinted air." It feels like a slow ending. Autumn is a sad, drowsy beautiful time because all the brightness and the harvest and abundance is temporal and will be descending into the sleep of winter in a few short months. That's what life is like too. This poem captures the feeling perfectly.

Why almond slivers? Why not pralines?

Chaz, your face would make a ripping good toilet except for the fact that there appears to be no flushing mechanism. Zen man the last part of this poem made me cheer. Especially the part about not needing a master. Very German. Going to read it to Grandpa as soon as he is out of the bath.

Troubadour, at your core you are nothing but a dried-up prostitute with a bad back. Doesn't matyter if you're rolled in silk sheets first. The poem is a good one. I like the line that goes 'Lilfe's sometimes unfair, but life is a miracle'. That is essential truth, man.

Autumn tinted air - brilliant phrase. I love the whole poem.

Chaz Nasty eats poop logs rolled in almond slivers. Yes, they look good, and no denying that almonds are healthy, but the core food unit is still essentially poop.