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.
Bukowski,
scribbling away
in rooming houses.
A river always flowing.
I am the nightmare of stagnancy and a God of Imagination.
Thursday, March 09, 2006
Kill Me Now, Please...
It'd be cheaper, at least. My fucking teeth are always cracking, my goddamn bones are always breaking, my eyes fucking suck, my knees are shot - Somebody just kick me dowm some fucking stairs already.
Don't look at me. I just came here to read.
ReplyDelete*hug*?
ReplyDeleteGive me your address. I've been praying that God (you know, the Great Purple Hippo JuBeJu) would give me someone who wanted to die.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Hippo!