Afterthought 1564—Some Versions

I’m told to not let on too loud how thin I’ve made me, be a little more discreet. Those who know me know what shape I’m in. Some versions have me sitting down to eat. I have another child you’ve never known nor will. That makes it your turn in our game which one of us can call the most our own. Some versions have me giving him your name. Most nights I hang out at a local bar earning my drink by setting down the mood with Texas country on my old guitar. Some versions have me dancing mostly nude. I make my way up north most every spring to celebrate again the maple’s rise. Next year there’s this new heartthrob I might bring. Some versions have me donating my eyes. Our mentor’s finally gone for good, it’s said. His best disciple’s daughter under oath gave testimony she had seen him dead. Some versions have me standing in for both. Before you leave, please close and lock the door behind you. You know where I keep the key in case you might return, who cares what for. Some versions have me home. This one’s not me.

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Afterthought 1563—One Prevailing Opinion

Tom Brady throws like a lady. He's rather over-inflated  sans a ball under-rated.

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Afterthought 1550—Minus One, Minus Another

Time was known more by what we didn't do than by what we did. It's the absent things we know, minus one, minus another.  We withheld pieces of ourselves, expecting to do without. We focused on the words not said, leaving the others to catch up.  We made love with the lights on, ignoring the gods who call from dark. All those tears we never had to cry, minus one, minus another.  We won't see everyone home, we won't mark everything done, we won't mention every casualty, we won't spend every last cent. Minus one, minus another, minus one, minus another, minus one, minus another, we will be at our best  with all we weren't.

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Protected: Afterthought 1547—Extenuating Shadows

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Protected: Afterthought 1543—Sitnah’s Waters

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Protected: Afterthought 1542—Weekend Snowbird

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Protected: Afterthought 1540—Beer Chaser

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Afterthought 1524—Taken Way Too Seriously

Steve Martin, comically high-chartin'— at his craft quite a glib hoot, not so much so at tribute.

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Afterthought 1523—Best Remembered As

Carrie Fisher, Jabba's fave side disher— Call her smart. Call her witty. Just don't dare call her pretty.

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