is it possible to write everything into a puddle right here before the clock strikes eight strokes past  – is it fair to write everything that is puddling in this grey matter to melt this white screen, perhaps invoking a primal scream, burn, upon an innocent – is it okay if i reveal the shit marrying in this empty pool that has left detritus at your door – no one reads this anyway, so we are okay – okay, but do not breathe a word to the landlord where these burns came from or he may come for me, or worse yet, you, when he finds out more than one has knocked at this door – follow me into this field of summer’s thorns – explore this forest floor filled with pined for moons – did you lock that door – together we shall run until our shadows shed their clothes, it is the nakedness of humanity that will keep us warm on a nite of zero minus degree- do you mind if we kiss inside this dream or is that not…two minutes to midnight and there is still half a stream to fill with nothing and that, my friend, is the brilliance of freeing the beast inside this secret palace of escape – never lose faith in your final dream – AWAKE ~ now, v-

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  1. “no one reads this anyway, so we are okay – okay, but do not breathe a word to the landlord”–of course I am reading this, and I love it. I feel as if I’ve been let in on some delicious secret. How do you manage that sleight of hand here in a public forum like this blog. Brilliant!

    • Susan ~ I say it many times, but you are always too generous with your kindness..thanks for reading my brain’s wanderings. Oh, and I will shoot you an email soon! ~ a

  2. Love this so much.

    • you’re kind for reading…my approach is not always loved, so many thanks ~ a


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