Empty canvas

You found another blank slate,
A clean canvas,
A small but giant place for a story starting now.
For God sakes, don’t bring yesterday’s story into it.
That’s painting color over color to create mud and murk, silt and flood.
Complexity of layers like a lawn of now 20 yards above a dinosaur bone.
The roaring Rex can’t possibly play on this grass.
Watch for some other novel monster.
For the story that was agreed upon but is now a lie.
That’s entertainment.
A murder in the woods.
A fire set by children practicing magic.
An untruth that becomes a truth because everyone said so.
Abominations of the specie that will one day be 20 yards down and contemplated by some other evolved imbecile.
A clean slate now, knowing that nothing lasts.
Creation in the shadow of an unbearable futility.