the great idiot of us all

When I was growing up I was sure of two things. 1. I was retarded and 2. that I was adopted. - eventually I learned that 1. no and 2. no.


however, there is lingering doubt remaining about both only because my nature is different and odd and my nurture is fantastically imprinted.


I was also told that I couldn't carry a tune and was in speech therapy because I was monotone and thought to be tone deaf - both of these ended life being not true as I have become an accomplished musician and a pretty good singer.

If I was so motivated - this would be the start of my autobiography - or my memoirs as they call them.

what follows is probably terrible or terrific...


the great idiot of us all

the rain sleeps;
passed the nickel
through gates of wrath
after
observedly pounded on
windows and
doors and windows
doors and windows.

slept under lit porticoes
and flooded swails.

- last night I wrote this but may take it back