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, December 20, 2006
M'i Afeerd fo brees....
Three seperate times today a bee was hovering outside my car window.
2 comments:
You smell like flowers?
Bee-cause, just bee-cause.
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