I am Jane Goodall's Tanzanian monkeys typing about bananas.
My fingers are Santa's little helpers.
My hope is a sporadic rainfall - yet a torrential downpour in all creative environments.
I am Theseus, unspooling golden yarn.
Sisyphus, sweating uphill.
in rooming houses.
A river always flowing.
I am the nightmare of stagnancy and a God of Imagination.
Saturday, March 08, 2003
I Hate Lucy...
If I was Lucy, I would've thrown gay-ass Little Ricky out the window,
called the INS and had them deport my husband,
tossed a molotov cocktail inside Fred and Ethel's apartment,
and then run away with a short-haired lesbian named "Jo".