I am having that week where it is near impossible to get motivated and out of bed - like the end of a too long vacation.
but the lawn is now mowed and I think even more of a condo, there is still the weed trimming and watering the newest seed and sod. I've already returned to bed and day dreamed another half hour away. I can return to these things later, after fresh coffee midday, after angelic visions, masturbation, time behind the typewriter, and whatever else I can do to postpone the drudgery of yard work.
listening to Miles Davis and drinking that midday black coffee there is little chance that I will recover from this mood quite yet.
somewhat changing the subject:
I have to proof my book this week or next, received it yesterday afternoon. the first thing I noticed is that the cover isn't what I expected or like very much. If need be I can live with it as what is important is on the inside which my mood can't stand to read though right now. I've read so much of my own work lately preparing for this book that there isn't room in my heart for another reading quite yet.
when I go to tie my shoes
and break a lace, I don’t go
crazy and/or go off on a bender
where the normal narcotics are
augmented with an admixture
to include alcohol and speed.
this is not because I had a
balanced upbringing where
stability was taught and soaked
into the impressionistic brain;
but because years of being, bearing
witness to such madness taught me
that shoelaces break and
to only wear
- Hoc Scripsi