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.
Monday, January 20, 2003
Pirates Treasure...
Never trust a man with a big ass.
Or specifically, a not-necessarily-obese-man-with-a-big-ass.
I don't know why you shouldn't trust them - but just don't, okay?
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