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, November 17, 2003
One Spilt Of Champagne And One Coke...
Hung out with this guy and
this guy at the bar tonight.
Came home to plumbing problems.
And that was my Sunday.
Be jealous.
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