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, July 13, 2015
Jack: [to Kate] Tell me something. How come any time there's a hike into the heart of darkness, you sign up?
No comments:
Post a Comment
Comments! Your FACE is a comment! Huh?