see clay run (to new york)

the floor



these boots make me think of ducks



new bike



"sometimes i catch a glimpse of myself in the glass, and i think, 'what a lucky guy.'"

hey.

the guy in the stupid shirt
(the guy with too many muscles,
asking your advice on dance moves)
wonders aloud, to you:
"how do you feel about poetry?"
well, sir, let me get you another beer
and walk away
to wash some dishes
in iambic pentameter

in order to make it rain:

over-priced whiskey and an amphitheater full of people who don't speak your language.

that's how you let the beat build

the greatest joy of today was coming home from work
(at almost 4:00 AM)
to find my dog very, very happy to see me, but also
(at the same time)
pointing me in the general direction of my bed.

where she is now soundly sleeping.

Last night, stuck in some feverish dream.

I woke up at 6:00 AM with a peaceful feeling, which I believe derived from the early morning quiet. Everything is crisp, green. The sky is grey. There is the ever present lull of cars on the street nearby, but even that is soothing.

I think I'll wake up at 6:00 AM more often.