The smell of victory reeked
in the delivery room. The crackpot,
Rachet Man, followed his dream
at the Institute of Grace
while waiting to be born.
It was a painful delivery, and
he has been in recovery since birth.
“I’ve climbed another wrung
in the ladder where I see my shadow
on the moon every night,” he said
from his high and mighty perch. I
instinctively looked out the window
towards the moon, but realized
that his finger pointed
in the opposite direction
at the chip on his
shoulder.
Copyright © 2002 Dennis Janke • All rights reserved.