And just like that, the day after the book of poetry I bought that I thought magical yesterday not working today, I promise myself to NEVER BUY BOOKS YOU WORK IN A UNIVERSITY LIBRARY, FUMBDUCK, and then buy a book and love it unconditionally Day One out of guilt at breaking my promise
Momcat and Ozzy now join us on our late evening neighborhood loops. Ozzy's declared himself our cat, lives in our yard, never goes home to our neighbor on the right. He's funny, doesn't shut up, chases my discs like a dog, tries but can't pick up even after he flips them over and tries to lift the disc by its rim with his teeth to play fetch. Will he come with us when we move to Michigan? I don't want to move to Michigan though the Maryland I want to live in will be Texased once the 2024 coup installs a Cracker King as emperor
Seething. I told a friend I feel stupid when I seethe (above) and guilty when I don't (below). The hexjeff below, one of only a very very few non-seething hexjeffs in existence, painted in the glow of committing to my NOT entering art competitions despite the encouragement of L and C and R, I expect that promise to go the way of my ban on buying books sooner rather than later but certainly
IN A FIELD, AT SUNSET
When he asked if I still loved him, I didn’t answer;
but of course, I loved him.
He’d become, by then, like the rhyme between lost