God rest ye merry
gentlemen? I don’t see them
lifting a finger!
Gentlewomen’s lament
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God rest ye merry
gentlemen? I don’t see them
lifting a finger!
My spare bedroom holds
many possibilities
under all that junk.
I burn candles and
incense. Maintain silence. Find
myself in nothing.
No greater self-love
than a dog licking itself
with satisfaction.
We bring it home, put
it on life support so we
can hang ornaments.
Like flickering tongues
of flame in green…blue…red. Just
plug in and enjoy.
Two tribes – In-laws and
Parents – force you to over-
eat, then watch TV.
Viriconium,
Gormenghast, Majipoor. Dark
journeys. Twisted dreams.
She’d buy Free People,
match and mismatch carelessly,
revel in oddball.
Off to NYC
tomorrow. Garmin riding
shotgun. Can’t get lost.