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.
Friday, June 23, 2006
If Somebody Tells You That You Seem A Lot Younger Than You Are...
They're really calling you immature.
I am backwards/infantile/H.G. Wells' Time Machine-style -
I am the vanishing dot on old black and white tv screens.
I am an inoperable CANCER, drunk on Vodka/Redbulls.
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