7:41 AM
From yesterday morning, adapted from Cheech and Chong:
The morning dew kisses the morning grass,
The morning sun glistens broken glass,
The broken glass invades my unshod foot,
Who broke that glass can kiss my ass.
(Which is about all it does. Truly, though, from full stride i have to stop and pick sherds of glass outa my feet. Then again, life could be worse.)
She is thousands of miles away. Even one mile would be too far. Preternaturally, i still know each breath.
Next time i'm paid some of what owed, she'll visit and the gods will make love. (In some way, she broke 70 and i 60. Many ways to make love.)
@Graylocke and @manshu s! The dog set this up and is currently on a field trip.
humn = manshu's Mr. Hyde.
^ oh woe, the video above didn't end the way i expected. But it did end.
What a male chauvinist world! The video for which i was looking ended in female dominance at it has been scrubbed.
Patience jackass. That was on target.
And i don't believe in any of that. Cooperation and permission are my bylaws, now.
But i know and relish the rough side. Scars to prove it.
New ones too! The only way to pull someone from the gutter is to wallow alongside and build trust.
Megastars who sing about homelessness is better than nothing.
My cracked head (not crack, not even coffee, i'm naturally hyped) has learned a few things other than mathematics.
[Next best thing, i give away musical instruments:]
Groups who have YouTubes are not the minstrels to whom i donate fine instruments. But give and take as the tide rolls.
I give fine instruments to street musicians. Each says, to effect, "what the fuck?!" To which i say "your choice, try it out."
Thems were the old haunts. Surrounded by street music from once-my instruments.
Think there's potential in the new haunts, but i'm outa give-away fine instruments.
