(from cardboard notebook)
On the porch, nothing (there's) like the re-smoked. The dogs are sleeping. I wonder what George is doing
On the porch, nothing (there's) like the re-smoked. The dogs are sleeping. I wonder what George is doing
Everyone & their kids. Everyone & they're kids! It is nice, like refreshments. The last time with love. I'm not emotionally in it with you... I said. And what I want to know is, who asked? Or.. the looks long lingering long lashed, and then, my saying such a thing, a likely untruth? It was was it cruel. Or it was attempt (car blasts by) to cover up the exposure... proving it isn't anything other... or showing off maybe (cruelly...) that I am under no spell...
I, overflowing with possibilities for my sensitivities... spilling myself out... I'm so tired, my life is a mess,.. I'm dying inside,.. ha ha ha The whole is poetry .
Wyoming today. Waking among the green desert bushes and hard clay grounds beneath us. Rocks.
I, overflowing with possibilities for my sensitivities... spilling myself out... I'm so tired, my life is a mess,.. I'm dying inside,.. ha ha ha The whole is poetry .
Wyoming today. Waking among the green desert bushes and hard clay grounds beneath us. Rocks.
