Wednesday, September 24, 2014


I need to find Jillian Weise's new poetry book.  Search it out of a dusty cavernous store with 3 cats and an owner who manages to disappear before you can ask a question.  I want to trip over it shiny new in the dark gloom of forgotten tombs.

I want to rescue it.

I am tipsy gal.  One beer in and shaved ice as dinner. I will sleep tonight, but the dreams have lost their prophecy. Good, I need time to me.  I overbooked my world again.

Failure to say no.

I am still sleeping. No danger zone yet. How I love to skirt that edge though.

Cannot fall over
Cannot fall over
Cannot fall over

Poetry to prop me up and the reminder that somewhere, somehow there will always be a tomorrow even if it isn't for me or mine.

Always a tomorrow.

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