SomethingElseMatters

And almost every night when the sun went down, I drew the sunset. I knew sunsets were a cliché and that's why I did them. It seemed to me that if I could break through that wall of been-there-done-that even once, I might be getting somewhere. So I piled up picture after picture, and none of them looked like much. The sullen furnace-glow was always missing.

Each sunset was only a penciled piece of shit where the colors said I'm trying to tell you the horizon's on fire.

                                                                                                                     S.K.