Author: Jonathan R

A courier knocked and said “these are for you”
And gave me a bushel of flowers
Addressed from that guy who, on date number two
Had talked of “our” life plans for hours

“Don’t go back yet again”
You tell me I don’t remember the half of it
The good seared into my skull
The bad drifted away like ash on the wind
Toxic nostalgia

Who dwells in the dark, in the dull-water deep?
Who sneaks in to stab you as soon as you sleep?
Who hunts in the headlands, a hook in his hand?
It’s Man-Scallop, hybrid of ocean and land!

We put the “pro” in Procyon
We’ve mastered every trick and con
We’re in by dusk and out by dawn
We operate by stealth