Quarter of ten.
Aesop didn’t like his fish dog food today so I won’t buy it again.
There’s something missing from my life
It cuts me open like a knife
It makes me vulnerable, I had this disease
I shake like an incurable, God help me please
Whoa, there’s a hole in my life
Does anyone remember that song? The Police were so much fun. I’ve had dreams that I was jamming with Andy and Stewart. I used to have King Crimson dreams as well: strange dreams where they did a gig in a church or a shopping mall.
I just saw the shadow of a hummingbird on the wall opposite my seat in the living room. I turned to look and he was gone. I saw him again, but only his shade, gray on the white wall. I’d like to see the real thing and in color, but I can settle for this illusion like we all do. It’s after ten and the neighborhood is fully awake by now, though maybe not illuminated.
Go on toward the crimson shore
Beyond this life of metaphors
Where doors of understand’s house
Decorates he them with clove
Acorns smack the roof and patio cover in my backyard. It’s destined to be a lonely day for me but odds are I’ll survive it.
robgradens 