He was the crazy kid

They were the crazy ones

D. David Croot has been writing on and off (pretty much continually) for nineteen hundred years. He is no preternatural creature, no real special abilities or heightened desires to speak of, but he’s put in his four-trillion hours and it’s all for you my sweaty precious and sublimely beautiful creatures.

— — -

He was the crazy kid

They were the crazy ones

Shoving shit in other peoples wind-pipes!

Shit they damn near blew up the school

We got six more weeks off over easter as they rebuilt one block

That had been burnt down by some unknown nutter

–

I went to visit the ash, our headmaster was there

I said, “It’s a glorious sight isn’t it?”

“Did you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Do you know who did it- the fire young man, the fire.”

“Nope but I know about eighteen kids who’d have liked too.”

–

I saw them again, as I keep seeming to do

working crappy jobs, kfc, bowling alleys