Writers Parasite [Contains Adult Language & Situations]

[Lipinski]

Man, it's hot today.

"How hot is it!"

Here parasite, hold on to this black piece of metal.

(sizzle, sizzle,) SHIT! Ow, ow, owee ow ow!

What's wrong parasite? You shrunk a little but if it's any consolation, your ugliness looks bigger!

"I hate you Robin, I realllllllly do..."

Good. Now, would you mind holding onto this bare electrical wire and tell me if the light switch works when I turn it on?

"Okay."
*

Hot

Weather is a fickle thought
One moment rainy, wet, and cold
One moment windy, dry, and hot

"Too hot!"
"Too cold!"
Rarely though, is just right.

A bit of warmth, a bit of cool, a slight breeze, a bit calm, a bit overcast, a bit sunny
ah yes, but still
some would still complain a bit.

[Lipinski]

In one hand rests the chance
In the second hand ticks the change between the present
and the past

Below, far below, the feet beat constantly upon a path
a journey perhaps
where experienced sadness, happiness, life, death
and chance

Above, far above, the space is so, so immense, so vast
a place where dreams go and come
as such, the chance, ever the chance, the dream,
and such a wonderful chance.

[Lipinski]

Mars
God
of
War

...

They were given choice, of chance, of meaning and circumstance
Bellows of Hell fires cooling mankind's hearts
Son against father
Daughter against mother
Laurels of white strung flowers trampled with hate
Wolves howling casting down the ravens loss
Beast pounding at the door
Windows broken
a child cries, not from hunger, love, loss... a child cries with hate
revenge borne so many times before in so many colors
...
Pulling the sword from sheathed calm collections
Sharpening upon the stone of preparation
Razor sharp focus
with shield in hand and crossed blade
giving thanks to the coming war
to the Father of War
spill the blood deeper than the oceans deep
raise the cries of anguish and horror to honor the vultures high
level all innocence in between
...
Hail Father, come to me so I too, can plunge the blade of paternal power deep
into your heart where then the dogs of war
can feed.

[Lipinski]

purity level, leveled, leveraged and lean
poor shots much like billiards clicking scene
piss poor purity, level, leveled, leveraged and lean

plus thoughts leveled leaving loss and lion's share of balance tilted
back
/
and
\
forth
/
and
\
then

What if then?
What if then, it is nothing more
than
a
dream?

Maybe more so, level, leveraged, and lean
waking to reality of a world so far unbalanced, unleveraged, enraged, cruel, and mean
where people rely to much on dreams, on a nightmare level
,.,
bring on then
the screams.

[Lipinski]

Score!

Being a bonafide dumpster diver I relish finding good stuff at the dumpsters. Normally I would have written 'finding good shit' but at the dumpsters around here, the river rafters throw plastic bags full of shit into the dumpsters as BLM laws state 'you take it in... you take it out'.

Today, found three heavy-duty metal trellis for tomatoes. Amazing what people throw away. I love it.

Once talked with a professional dumpster diver who found six one-hundred dollar bills inside a Bible someone threw away.

But, the real inspiration tonight is mulberry tree's. The other day I had my first experience tasting and seeing a mulberry tree. The fruit was fantastic. Instantly thinking it was the best tasting fruit I've ever had. Juicy. Sweet. And, no seeds that jam up the teeth like so many other berries.
***

Around the Mulberry

There, up high, just above the touch
Swaying from ripeness
tempting sweet.

Black reflection to show maybe the ambition to reach
Thinking there is always a way

Bending branches in one hand, plucking gently with the other
and the taste?

Beyond belief!
The texture
The taste
The treat.

So, there are good things in this bitter and fucked up world
a world where there is sour and seeds
and the beauty combined with fantastic...
this
the
mulberry
tree.

[Lester Curtis]

Mulberries are really good. Just watch the juice; it leaves more or less permanent stains on everything it touches. Inspired a scene in one of my stories where a guy used berry juice to write a message on parchment and hid it in an earthenware jar ... it was found by the main character thousands of years later, in perfect condition.

What was most fun about writing this was the research I did for it. I needed to know about the use of such staining agents on parchment, and I looked around on the 'net (which was a much smaller territory then) and contacted a Dutch citizen whose profession was restoring ancient manuscripts. His English wasn't very good, but he was delighted to share his knowledge with me.

[Lipinski]

Planted 26 mulberry tree's today. Got a great deal on them as they were potted and most about 3' tall with lots of leaves. Paid $4.95 each. A local family owned business called, Fiddle Creek is an awesome place to do business. They sell everything as they are fully stocked hardware store, and greenhouse, and orchard, and cattle, and sheep, and kids running around like ants, and baskets woven from grass created in Africa, and huckleberry pie, and a whole lot of good stuff to include one of my current favorites...pickles and pickled garlic. A local guy named, 'Smiley' does the pickling which is so good that after finishing the contents I drink the pickle juice like a glass of water.

Anyway, taking the tree's out of the pots the roots said, "Thank you!" as they were bunched up and ready to be planted.

You raise a good point about the staining. When I was eating the fruit the other day they were so ripe (and sooooo damn good!)
the soft fruit oozed purple juice and covered my hands. This got me to thinking there might be coloration uses for the fruit. It would be fun to write poetry on parchment or cloth with mulberry juice.

Did some more research and see the juice is good to protect the heart and liver while also helping stave off cancers.

And what the mulberry tree really did for me is to show that there are some great things that help one to survive in this world. So, it was a great surprise to 'discover' a fruit and tree I've never paid attention to before. Thus, the inspiration. Learning is an activity that never stops as one journeys through life.
***

Discovery

Walking past the penny sitting cast upon the sidewalk
Swept aside by the busy broom
Stepped past by busy feet
a busy
busy
busy world above, around, and beneath.

Alone, tarnished, covered in dirt and debris
while all around, and around, and around
round
round
round
laying there, forgotten
down
on
the ground.

She was forgotten, sad, grieving, alone
while around her
a busy world above, around and beneath
holding onto sadness of corrosion, dirt, dust,
like the penny forgotten
on the ground.

Walking with tears on her way to die
a word going by what they called, suicide
...

As her feet moved slow, being passed by a busy world with busy needs
Faster than anything she could want or need
her eyes seeing blackness, barren trees, and a path ending the speed

Stumbling a bit to where she fell, skinning her knee
Waking to real pain with a cry, her fingers curling around
a penny.

Picking up, getting up, and looking at what she held
a lonely, dirty, forgotten penny, one she had once before
seen.

A gift from a fair so many years ago, one where her father placed a quarter into a slot
along with a penny

A whir and gur and then, the penny was flattened and stamped
a loving memory to remember her father who died the next week.

He was her life at that very young age and in her grief she had lost the gift
such a simple thing
and from then the journey was painful as she grew alone in a foster home
without hope
not even love
nor the penny.

With tears of joy now falling, a parting cloud in the sky
the wind started to blow the flowers
and branches in the tree's
The sun flowed through her,
there were songs of the birds, the hum of the bee's
and a voice from a stranger, a young man passing, "I'm sorry miss, can I help? Do you need anything?"

She smiled, a first for a long time
as she said, "Thank you. Can you tell me the time and date?"

They talked a bit, and walked slow, as the day glowed with warmth
even the lowering sun seemed wonderful and nice.

By the end of the day, the world slowed in speed
For the young girl she once again found hope, maybe even love
and for sure
Life
while in her pocket secure was the piece of penny now starting to glow bright

for her now was the journey of joy and discovery
and the comfort of being happy.

[Lester Curtis]

Great poem!

[Lester Curtis]

Oh, and the Chinese are making AI sex dolls now ... male and female. Makes me wonder what an encounter between a couple of those would be like ...

[Lipinski]

Oh shit, what an inspiration. Two AI sex dolls of opposite gender meeting for some one-on-one... Thanks for providing some fun imagination.
***

Taking the Tango with AAA Batteries

'Made in China'
(of course, trade tariff free)
Free sex, whenever, however, and so fine!

Flip the switch and watch for a fun time.

She was plastic and latex
He was latex and plastic
She was moist
He was slippery
smiles and apparatus...

They both were used hard by those weak of mind
and then
set aside
where they could ponder the universe, the penis, the vagina, strawberries, candles, and clay.

It was only through luck that the two would meet.

Oh, it was strange
She sat on the floor where her 'lover' finished, dropped, and went to sleep
He was handcuffed to a bed where his 'lover' dropped over dead, smothering the other lover
in his sleep.

The two looked at each other with electronic senses, dulling down the electric static
and both looked pleased.

"Hi sexy, wanna fuck?" He said with a practiced seductive tone

"Oh, my, you're so big!" She said with a wink

Back and forth, forth and back, the two were immobile as their motor functions were in sleep mode

So
For many years, while their 'lovers' rotted dead until even the flies had nothing else to eat
the two engaged in vocal sex to fill an artificial need
until...
one day,
just before their battery life ceased
she asked the big question, "Why are we here, and for what really?"
he answered with what he knew to be the truth, "I think therefore I am..."
and with a soft humming the two new lifeforms died, alone in a room, warranty expired...
unless you believe their company maker decree,
'Customer satisfaction, guaranteed'

[Lipinski]

It would be interesting to see the percentage of people who actually read books now versus people who actually read books before television, and especially, the smart phones/computers/ technical shit.

I wonder? Would a child be happy to sit and read a book such as, 'Moby Dick'? Or, would they be bored out of their mind; instead desiring tweets, texts, youtube, emoji's and all that other shit? Of course, some children exist that prefer some good books but thinking that compared to the power of video games and electronic stimulation, they are the rare ones.

Humans are adaptable to their environment. That is easy to show. One century they wear corsets and bloomers with sheared beaver hats and spectacles. The next they cut off dicks and say they are women. Wonderful! Fucked up, but wonderful.

Of course, reading is reading. And what a joy it is to be able to decipher scribbled lines of whatever language a person chooses to understand.

I personally love to read humans as they are a scribbled mess of lines in perpetual convulsions.
**

Books

Lives are stories written and written they are books
Books are many, so many volumes, so many libraries, so many, many...
periods, comma's, paragraphs, rewrites, proofs...

Beginnings
Endings
Binders
Page marks

If a books dies or is burned, does it mean it did not exist?
(taken from the philosophy of the tree in the forest falling)
A home
A life
A book...

All is recorded with so many offshoots
So many variables
it
is
good.

Never the same
Never forgotten
And God smiles as the inkwell joins with the pen.

[Lester Curtis]

You could probably guess that I enjoy reading. I'll give you one of my favorite resources:

Edward R. Hamilton Bookseller Company
PO Box 15
Falls Village CT 06031-0015

Send them a postcard and ask to be put on the mailing list. They'll send catalogs from time to time.

I get large orders from them, for two reasons: they deal in returns and overstocks, so the prices are really low*, and--no matter how many you order, you pay only a single $3.50 shipping charge. Theoretically, you could have ten pallets of books arrive at your door for $3.50 in shipping. No credit card sales this way; it's another savings.

They have an online outlet where you can buy with cc, but it costs more.

So, once or twice a year I'll buy upwards of a dozen at a time, and that keeps me booked up.

* I avoid the titles with a blue star next to them; the markdown isn't much better than a lot of other outlets.

Build some new shelving and fill it up!

[Lipinski]

Thanks for providing the great tip about the bookstore Lester

"Yeah. I'll show you a great tip... Tip of my spear you bloviating, pompous..."

Now now parasite. Just cuz you were staked outside in the burning sun doesn't mean you have to be an idiot.

"Oh yeah? Says who? You? You're nothing more than a ..."

Back to the stakes parasite. I see the stink bugs and ants are hungry.
*

As to books. I own over 40,000 comic books (great literature with pics) Plus, being a bit eccentric, I bought an entire library of books from the Army base in Anchorage. Literally, I have tons of books with genres of everything. 'Real' books are muuuch better (in my opinion) than the ebooks.

Thanks for the inspiration and source of future books
***

How many books can it take to fill a mind?
To the brim and overflowing
without the reader forgetting
almost as if not knowing?

Some people only read technical journals
or science
Some people only read menu's
Some people do not know how to read
So
Some do
Some don't
Something to ponder about
and think.

Again, for a voracious reader, how many books can be consumed
processed
stored
remembered
repeat?

The mind, a biological computer is very complete
yet lacking in storage retrieval
...
trying to remember the first book I ever read
when I was old enough to put the letters to the word
and thinking it was about a dog
or
maybe, a tree?

[Lipinski]

soil such as the sun tastes
hot with crumbled warmth to feel

sifting so as sitting silent
searching for what seems
so small

simple really, this pleasure
free from the bonds of a world gone mad
and knowing the peace of alone
feeling too
the sunlight
surrounded by life.

[Lipinski]

What a night tonight! Mars on Fire, Moon getting eaten by the Earth, smoke from forest fires, crickets, warmth...
and of course
inspirational.

*

Battle of the Stars

Look over there, way over there, there over the horizons after the horizon
Can you see?
Stand on tippy toes while laying prone in bed, deep, deep, deeeeep,
asleep.

Oh, yes, it is there, those horizons limited in view to those awake
Eyes of flesh could never seek thus never see
or feel
yet the mind knows, the soul feels,
can you see?

Tonight, a battle takes a circular life, a generation of energy where even the dead can feel
and make
for only a moment it takes
to look over there, way over there, there over the horizons after the horizon
so much more beauty than looking up at the stars awake
for in your body, your mind, your soul, the star dust from past battles
come to Life!

[Lipinski]

Hearing a lot, a humming bird for example
feeding
guarding the feeder
beating the air with wings so fine and soft, the air whispers

Seeing a lot, a beautiful sky with wind teasing
a river winding below
and dogs

Touching the moment where so fleeting yet so precious
a moment where the world stops
so too
time

Smelling so much; flowers, birds, animals, soil, air...
so
so
so fine

It is indeed
a great day
to be alive.

[Lipinski]

it was a large factory. it was an abandoned factory yet in good condition with large steel beams and many large rooms. then, the people came, it struggled into life. it was a Russian factory.
*
oil in the dance with the wick. waiting for the lamp to glimmer and flame. reaching out and lighting what some say is ceremony and sight, only, the illusion/delusion for what they know not in site.
**
sitting with focus, a moon over the shoulder laughing. thoughts laser thin
***

when chimed there comes a bell tolling
rolling call to all imposed
above the tides and tied
sparks eroding
this they call
time

blankets covered what cannot be hid
as light calls from the lamp
a torch some carry where oily ambitions come to
reveal
this they call
time

bones tremble
howling wild
ocean calm in play
for in the waves
in the cravings
this they call
time

[Lipinski]

bird speak with a fever eye
picking the seed from haven to seek
and finding

all around they feed and fly
singing loudly as the clouds float by
warmth to the air
light to the mind

enjoyment indeed

[Lipinski]

The lips were in position of neither a sneer or curl of anger. Nor, were they full of passion or smile. His lips were slightly trembling with the recent moment of battle.

Specks of blood cast upon the warriors face made it hard to tell if his skin color was brown, black, white, or yellow. His beard knotted with the braid of his clan and his red hair matched the blood on his hands, hands holding a battle axe slathered in human fat and gore.

"Korlan, it was good, no?" Another warrior, partner and friend of Korlan going by the name Gon spoke as he wipe his lips free from battle.

Breathing softly, Korlan's heart softened and returned to a rhythm to match the mood. The monster of a man answered. "No. It is not good. This battle was not needed. Too many lost for nothing. For these..." And in a sudden burst of energy, raised his axe in both hands; bringing down the blade to cleave the head of his enemy..." Sonetang.

The man he just removed the final bits of life from were the Sonetang clan. A clan of devious people who only sought power and domination over others. Anyone who was not of their clan were preyed upon. It just so happened that the clan they had decided to battle against were allied with Korlan's clan.

D'rillgon Clan, the clan of cave beasts and sky tremblers... This was Korlan's clan, and they were afraid of nothing or anything either of this world or the next. The Sonetang made a deadly mistake of raiding and killing their allies. As a result, there was no mercy and no life spared that sported Sonetang blood.

[Lipinski]

Korlan bathed the body in the cool springs interspersed with boiling water infused with rose petals. The currents of hot and cold soothed his muscles recently tested in the weeks of constant battle.

"Ahh... This is better than war. Woman. You there. Bring me my drink." Korlan had authority in his voice as he ordered the slave to bring him a drink made from the grain of those many fields covered in crops located below this cave. Slaves were property gained from past battles and this slave was a creature of beauty, brains, and defiance.

"You should get the drink yourself...beast. And you should use more ceoral oil to rid yourself of..." but before she could finish her insult, her master reached out from the water, or, more like leaped half-way out and grabbed her around her waist. His naked body covered in muscle and tone.

"Woman! Your insults only excite me." He then received a bite on his lips from the defiant woman, a woman who then started to laugh.

"Ha! Mighty warrior. Not so strong now." And she grabbed his beard; pulling him roughly forward and kissed him deeply.

Blood from his torn lip flowed as it mixed with the passion of the two locked in an embrace of erotica and motion. Soon there was a new sound, one of moaning and excitement. The bath and drink forgotten and the sweet smell of rose petals and ceoral oil to fill the room.

[Lipinski]

sunlight met the tassles of seed laden grass
glowing and showing the life of death

yellow jacket chasing a hummingbird fast
leader showing humor, circling around showing first shall be last

dust swirling, scooping trash, showing winds past
grit level as calm prevails

crickets rub the leg of Summer
frost calls for Fall
Winter laughing as it talks in its sleep
Spring stored well as the ground is laden

tuned so fine with hands extended
filling
filling
in grasp
a world
spinning
feeling
seeing
being
one
with the past, present
caring less for a future
time
frozen as if
if
meaningless when compared to a beating heart
a happy dog
a sunset red
a moon glowing
stars singing
birds busy being
fish waiting to be caught
stories to be written
and so
so
so
much.

[Lipinski]

readers form instant thoughts and opinions when reading anything from advertising to educational books. Interesting how the mind works. speed readers pick and choose the words as they cruise through whatever it is they read. slow readers or readers just learning to read think more on how to decipher the letters and make it a word than trying to understand the word read.

the following is some fun I enjoy. words in a soup mix. words jumbled and making a reader think and thus picture in their mind just what it is they are reading.
***

Crockery of the Bent Branch

Silken panties
Moist
Honey and chocolate

Canned tuna
worms
spoiled lettuce

Beach sand and latex
thong
bulging ball sack

Moldy bread
sodden newspaper

and if by chance the moon should fall
a jumbled mess
a catch of catfish and rye

sipped from a cardboard box
by the train tracks
of bliss

[Lipinski]

Watched a young girl today at the Raspberry Festival. It was an interesting study as sitting next to her was her younger brother.

She softly cradled her doll and treated it in every way as if she were older and the doll was truly her 'baby'. Meanwhile, her brother was playing with a toy car and making all the 'vroom vroom' sounds.

Nowadays, the moments in the pc world of stupid shit would label such a statement of truth as sexist. That boys could play with dolls in the same way and girls play with toy cars the same way... and I say... bullshit.

Males can be full of compassion but are males. They have dicks, muscles, and basically an IQ geared toward getting back into the womb. Females can mechanically gifted and act just like a male, but the key words are 'act like'.

With billions of people on this planet, there are some exceptions but the norm and natural is like what I witnessed today.

Ever wonder why babies are born to have physical similarities to their fathers? In nature, the males would destroy offspring not of their own. Male lions taking over a pride do such.

Now, why write such? The answer is because today was just a reinforcement of observation and learning. Also, to completely contradict myself because when it comes to writing... All are male, female, alien, alive, dead... As a writer I can rock a baby and let it suckle from my milk laden breast. All writers can write as if old, young, or anything imagined. Old authors can be young. Young can be old. This is good.

So. Reality is reality. Writing though can be absolutely anything at all. My hypothesis is that humans embrace writing not only for educational and entertainment purposes, but also for the freedom to choose and be whatever it is they choose. Imagination is a very important part of the human condition.

And thus, a little girl and boy inspired me today with the simple act of reality in a world full of imagination.
***

Boys will be boys
Girls will be girls
and all else will be the same

So

ginger and spice and everything nice?
or
puppy dog tales?

given the freedom to do as one wills
without the dangers of what actually is real
a false world of secure
prisons the fate of the world

now

give me war, give me bloodshed and disease, give me natural disasters
and what then
do I have
that is
if I live?

It is then, we have what is reality, what is real,
and the imagination to start again to have the freedom to do as one wills
without the dangers of what actually is real
a false world of secure
once again imprisoning a world.

[Lipinski]

Linear_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________...

Circular
O
...

=

X


so plus+ and -

aside

for the reveal of folly.

[Lipinski]

Fire and Ice

Watched a rock melt
bubbling liquid of lava
felt ice cold to the touch

Touched the frost on the dark side of Saturn
frigid crystals
burned the mind

Mindful of balance between worlds of
inside
outside
settled far away from between

Spontaneous situations of difference
when sweating awake
freezing asleep

Spark or flake?
and then...

[Lipinski]

--a snippet hear--
---
---------a ring there---
--------
-
---sounding clouds and listening...
---------------------------
-----a vibration--------
felt..
***

"So, I'm back. Miss me sweat ball?"

Nah, you're not here.

"What? (looking around in disbelief) I'm RIGHT here."

Nah... it's too fucking hot... 111 degree's crossing the river. And at the river I saw a snowflake rise up out of the river... and that's an illusion... Nah parasite, you're off frolicking with dolphins next to an iceberg. So, you're just a heat illusion and... WOW! An army of Morial warriors are marching to do battle in the caves!


(silence)

"Nope. Dude, I'm here and thinking now that you're the illusion."

[Lipinski]

Food chain. A simple term to title the constant struggle for creatures to consume other biologic's in the quest for sustainability.

Algae, plankton, fish, birds, humans... A variety indeed of so many creatures dependent on so many creatures.

Humans do and have eaten other humans. Ants eat ants. Birds eat birds. An epic smorgasbord of consume and be consumed.

Yesterday, a small hawk that preys on small prey to include small birds watched me while I watched him sit on an electric wire...hunting. My placement of bird feeders makes it hard on such a hawk whereas if I had placed them in the open, there would be great opportunity for him. But, there are always those opportunities for such a tenacious hunter.

Anyway, the hawk gave me a gift as it took flight; dropping a beautiful feather that spiraled and scattered four dimensions as it traveled.

Normally I grab them out of the air before hitting the ground but this feather needed to complete the chain, binding the sky to the ground, and now it is as it should be... inspirational indeed.
***

Walking the surface of water rests the balance of feet and defeat
Life it is said , where there is
beginning
end

At the surface there is up, up to where the clouds never end
At the surface there is down, down below where what can not be seen and never ends
Balance again
static
calm
until the waters roil
and then?

A babies cry be it bird, beast, or man
A fish hatched to swim the surface
A insect formed to be
A plant sprouting
all to try the balance of travel in a waking world
in a way, trying to understand.

And why?
Why try?
Why be?
Maybe because the balance needed is needed as it is hard to stand?

i have journeyed high above the clouds, traveled far, far, far below the lands
Going full circle to places beyond imagination
hearing
feeling
seeing
being
learning
teaching
as to what i am is, it is
of no importance... a body, thought, existence consisting
of Wind.

[Lipinski]

Hypocognition

... / .. // ./ ./
()
)(
()
,.,
... / .. // ./ ./



and then


#
^^^ #
^^^#
#

followed with the flavor and zest

++++++++++++
============
-----------------


understanding is the key...

[Lipinski]

Hey parasite, saw ya messing around in the fridge again last night.

"No you didn't. That wasn't me."

Then why do you have apple pie crumbs on you?

"Uhmm...No I don't. That's dandruff."

(reaching over and tasting)

Nope. Apple pie. You're busted.

(the parasite tried to change the conversation so it said) "I have the perfect inspirational word for tonight... FART!"

Sigh. Still doesn't change the fact you ate my damn pie. But, inspiration has to come from somewhere so, fart it is.

(beaming with success, the parasite asked) "Can I have more pie now?"

Nope. All gone.

"Shit."
***

As inspired from the parasites word-of-the day.

*

Aeration of Air

Gasping at the logic of past combinations
Struggling to breath some sense of the matter
In touch with the feel of flight
To leave the scene of the accident
only
stuck in social traffic

Pull the finger as if the joke made the body whole
Falling short as lungs gasp for sympathy with eyes watering with tears
and wondering
did they leave some part of themselves behind that had a soiled sensation?

Children laugh in delight as they know
oh they know the power of the bowel filled with similar balloon levitation
squealing and howling and yes...
releasing the timing for the most opportune cry
of "WHY!"\
of course all being stuck inside an airtight room
or
car
or crowded movie theater

It can be said sulfur and fermenting organic meals
can truly bring a form of
(albeit smelly)
family bonding
as they all try to scatter...

[Lipinski]

Spandex thoughts stretched in anorexic convulsions
boarding on
an insurmountable wall
clogged with lost ladders
and moss

though it must be said clearly
bats in the belfry and the laughter of children
pulling the rope as the hunchback
cries

So why swim an ocean choked with ambitions?
Maybe
maybe to watch a chicken cross the road?.
.. . No?
Of course!

A full stomach, soft landing, and a restful nights abandonment of
mind as the sand tickles the toes.