Perhaps the point is not about calculation at all. The unfolding that surrounds us, implicitly revealing the unfolding that surrounds us. Yes, it's a clever trope he wrote. Then he wrote about having just enough trope to hang himself. My apologies!
Later still a Monarch butterfly passed, its uncertain bounces at odds with its legendary focus. Love is heartbreak, love is chocolate, love is a proven to be little more than a biochemical reaction to certain types of feedback. Ah for a 6 a.m. that never ceases! Fisher cats sleep in hollow trees, their ears pricked to the running of dogs. Nothing oppresses like a schedule.
Folk songs recalled in dreams, much the way hunters emerge from shadows, tired and empty-handed. Your compass is my quatrain. We took the pencils and hid them in the disco and to this day nobody has found them. Midnight water and a blessing. I woke up early thinking of you and composing letters and it made the morning pass.
Up the hill, past the stream until at last we arrive at the crabapple tree where twenty some odd years ago I first kissed a boy. You leave me notes, each inviting me to join you in South Carolina. I resent because. We all have dreams so stop acting like the world's a stage built especially for men who came of age in the 1970's. In effect I represent because.
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