Too tired. This eye-flickering wakeness draws me into empty spaces phasing into sleep without action. Dyslexia comes, a fridge of magic magnets shape new lines to newsline.
Does anyone else worry what will happen to all their stuff - mainly books, after they've...'gone'? It sounds slightly materialistic and I should be more worried about loved ones than possessions but it keeps bugging me. That I waste so much time, effort and money collecting so many different things and for what purpose? I think I need to get some sleep. Things always look a little better in the morning. Usually because I can't find my glasses .... Without ...
Updated 02-25-2009 at 07:40 AM by optimisticnad
Dear John My love your absence pickles my heart I lie there on the shelf waiting for you to throw stones and smash my clear glass shell. Your letter comes. The pregnant sausage of my mind sizzles in pain. I squeak out my suffering but you continue to fry.
Tongues of sharp-winged sadness take me. Unkempt, unsandalled and unclean, I wander whirlpools in the waiting dark, following false beacons that bold and bitter moonlight burn before me.
Poppa popped me one. Forearms like Popeye he twisted one eye to a bead, swinging hamfisted havoc. Kapow! the card castle that I am oyles away like olive to the ground
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