with a bent back,
poots sips and chews.
the last rays of morning sun trickle thru the red maple,
saying adieu for the day to make way for a day of rain.
a heavy humidity greeted poots to get the paper
and that, always makes it feel like summer.
a long night of idolized sleep,
poots has double-rushing duty this morning
to get me to the work on time for nine.
the java is hotter today
her eyes still slitty
and she thinks of things she should not
as she quickly fills this white space black and white
three empty days.
held in my present like the future always is.
fleeting me by, fleeting, all of us.
spring springs all over the place
city works leaves no water flowing
children's cries at 7 am
holes on the street
leaves on our trees
flowers still to be bought.
yesterday was good
and the world didn't end today.
apparently it will end one day.
lists of lists on craigslist and in my stinky drawer
this city wakes to warmth, we slept, please just a few more.
physically, my back is now straight; fleeting thoughts of bonnie;
the ones who need each other stick together
do you think perhaps it's the flitty makeup-ed ones with gangs who are
can my paradigm be shifting so much?
no poots, keep remembering, outside paradigms are not real.
perception runs the world, ed roberts said it and so did LFL.
no lovely words;
but a very straight back keeps poots happy for now.
what rules a memory
what chooses what's important
is a memory important
no one has to know...
but i do.
and now, what's important, is starting the day.
against my little will, i'll wake the house.
the heater purrs;
the coffeepot gurgles;
the list is longer now, writing my down thoughts is required for my
rest poots, rest; work won't kill you
let the java slowly wake you from that place
being dragged in many different directions is fun
but being grounded,
and is alan right, was i- am i - a spaz because i'm nervous?
that thought rambles thru my mind but i never have time to tie it down
i have always believe that i simply have more energy coarsing thru me...
i much prefer ken's synopsis, 'fire in your belly'
and maybe it has nothing to do with me, at all!
perhaps perception, truly, is the only reality..
and i love to work with perception, dont' i.
lovely (naughty) dreams,
working thru my perception,
the house quiet still,
my coffee spoon scrapes the smithsonian mug,
my tequila gut settles,
and the fish, the fish tank blurbling is the only sound i hear.
can you really sum up a life in words?
wow, poots, you're really here. again.
and you didn't even need your list.
developing a list
spreading my love for adele across waves of people
looking back on the moments i remember in my career
to tweet my life or not;
there is no time, no space, for thoughts when they come
comparing our lives; our paths;
this is my list, these are my napkin notes
once acbis is all done, i'll be back
so it's may
where did this place go
me, running in circles
skating, not dancing, singing, not minding, yet minding,
just go read this, that's what i'm going to do