Anger troubles me, troubles me, troubles me.

Implements of life surround me.  I am bored but still do not see the point of organizing them.

Intonation escapes me.

Today I am listening to jazz and watching Hurricane Harvey hit Houston.

What do you do about tone-deafness and a clumsy brain.  "Deft grace" as the words of a nonexistent reviewer  are not forthcoming.

Wield life!  Inhabit it!  Live it!

How many explanation points must interpose themselves before pre-emption by a visceral reaching-out ends typing and begins flight?

While you're walking by me I'm thinking of your fat ankles.  My therapist has fat ankles.  How do I trust her?

Think about cheese.

Think about pookah (Chelsea).



Moronic roses glow with me.

You can't frame life; life is the frame.