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 21, 2007
Bullets made of diamond-tipped Melatonin...
Sweet, that the girlfriend can't fall asleep until you get home.
Not sweet, that the girlfriend can't fall asleep until you get home.
i see your point.
ReplyDeleteGood words.
ReplyDelete