There is a poem under your seat right now
take a look
that incessant beep,
ignore that
you’ll be done before it stops
Well, hopefully—
have you found it yet?
If you’re still around when it beeps again
NOW!
Ok, let’s try this again:
There’s a poem under your seat
take a peek
Look, if you can’t find the poem I can’t help you.
Would you walk to the truck for a poem?
Meditate without adornment
except sunglasses
and a hat
I’m in the middle of updating this site to a custom child-theme I made on a development server. There are some key differences between it and my host. It’s making for a challenging transition.
After an exhausting bout of frustration the site is actually displaying something, exclamation mark.
Without analysis, judgement, or defense, I have decided to open this unbroke but limping site.
You stumble out of a bar.
Then you’re sitting on a bench.
By the time you’re in the car you’re reading Bukowski.
You both laugh, until Charlie throws that killer punch of his.
Now there is silence.
Now there is silence.
A silent vignette in frosty light.
