Saturday, May 26, 2012
did someone die, today? most likely. isn't that a difficult thing? was someone born, today? most likely. isn't that a difficult thing? did someone forget today? undoubtedly, but certainly nothing to fret about, for the ease of days and such choices of humans are relating to, or resembling a pile of sugar. throw a handful over your shoulder and blow the rest away. did someone remember, today? I'm never sure, and I would like to know. is there a list somewhere, of the people who remember? I would like the names and addresses of those who never murder themselves. accidentally, while cleaning the gun they always hold steady, the unmatched concentration and consideration taken when they shoot straight. and they remember how many bullets they've stored so that their life isn't a roulette of maybe maybe maybe maybe maybe. boom. let us keep in touch please, because for the moment, the world feels like those who never remember, even though they were there, and me.
Tickle your toes. . .
Ah, 7. The number in question. During this process of developing my first full-length work of prose, and a memoir to boot, I have considered...
where are my garden gloves to weed out your evils? where are my rubber gloves to scrub off your stupid? where are my surgical gloves to cut ...