There’s something about the blood clot like sunday evening naps I have where I wake like there’s been a visit to the underworld in real time and all the week’s tangents I’ve been riding out through into the weekend and then becoming the sail of the imagination into the next week the deep jugular nap when the cold and tired of the sunday tanks through the bones and blood stream, and wake and all those tangents have settled. It will be new tangents. They will be good. It’s an interesting week ahead.
She is peace, exuberance, kindness.
I am like the contemporary factory farmed sole, so watery tender I cook away to nothing. The most wonderful sensibility, and so beautiful.
And good, a genuinely good person.
I feel safe being so vulnerable, a liquifying
factory farmed fish.
But oh no, not lemon.
Only olive oil and pepper.
>>> EL>>>> ))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))
and other poems:
piano of letters for relative’s health care
always make good choices in the moment
probably with that much stress
a good canadian pea soup or maple bacon and beans
fish sandwich kensington market grilled cheese
always think of your own health as well
your health flows into theirs
And it worked out fine.
It was all true.
The storm apparently broke out
right after I went to sleep,
and woke management
in their homes,
while I was
fully helmeted by sleep.
Below this line will be an unknown ad by wordpress’s presumably random almost google like systems. It will have nothing to do with the post, random, and most strangely, I think they’re different depending on the computer etcetra, so there’s no telling what anyone will have seen the ad for down there.