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.
Saturday, October 20, 2007
Robinson Crusoe Meets Jack The Ripper...
Haven't been writing on this old friend, here, Fat Free Milk, because of big life changes and a lack of a computer. Revisiting a lot of the ol' pen and paper Deus Ex Machina. Maybe I'll end up getting more done. We'll see...
I'm writing enough for both of us.
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