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.
Thursday, May 21, 2009
UEZ...Y?
I know that all of you are asleep by now but will be morUning birds that wake and sing praises about the dawnE
I want to but it's way too late for me like always
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