the past, kind of stares you in the face, stacks of it, laminated, sitting on my desk, next to the scanner, stacks of images, pictures, photos, captured souls some might say, pieces of memories, papers, with written words, scribblings from a mad man, a sane man, a sad man, a mere boy, scattered surroundings, fractured lives, pieces, bits of flotsam, jetsam, debris, millions and thousands of junk stuff, wrappers, loose nuts and lost wrenches, floating, orbiting, traveling at speeds, glistening in the night sky, sometimes things just don't go according to plan, but frantic is as anxious does, and pieces fall into place, into plans, and best years are behind, always, trailing, trailers, sure goals