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.
Wednesday, April 20, 2005
Poppies...
I am in limbo, am at my new second job, behind a desk, trying to be productive. Trying not to twiddle my thumbs. The boss is on vacation and I'm here all alone. This is very strange.
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