That was so yesterday…

And so it begins. The day, with its perennial intents and lost causes poking through a marginal petina of barely broken limbs, scattered from wind-bared trees with no-telling when the digital signal will come back in:

I am married, in your pocket

no way to know where we’ll go

with all our dreams


under a deliberate


Too many things

are trying

to get

my attention

it seems

but then again

who cares?

Morning, World

alternate: Of great sadness, this way I go

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