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, May 02, 2005
I Am...
Not the security guard singing Al Green to himself at 3 am as I was leaving work.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Comments! Your FACE is a comment! Huh?