Pour, pour, pour
The hungry words - with their spindly, delicate, ugly, little black verdana legs - scurry forth from the impatient flashing text cursor onto the inadequate text box to the tune of my chubby sausage finger's clickety-clack.
Experiences become thoughts become words become lost-in-translation blog posts. fiddlesticks.
Composition! What a crass sensual tension. What an ups!de-down joke.
poor, poor, pour from the pores of my imagination.
2 comments:
you are quite a writer, among other things, brian!
seriously brian, you are an EXCELLENT writer. :) :) :)
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