Thursday, January 5, 2012

I know I know I know I know I know

I know that all the sugar plum visions are wrapping against the pads of your fingers
I know it happens to be that instant of the calendar where the globe forces you to consider
The breaks and glitters and cracks and hikes of the most recent past
And with that comes a lofty to do list
Loft like those Wicker Park cheese cubes I remember eating when I still wore pink dresses
When I valued things like survival
And water supply
Looking back at the past ten years I realize an internal platonic shift from
So glad I didn't die last night
To let me get a look through that telescope please
I seem to be disenchanted with the reflection
I seem to feel the plates in my back expanding
I seem to keep depression at bay with a diet low in dairy and very high in food
Just keep eating
Never stop
Blend everything together with chocolate powders and do some mild stretching
Barely break a sweat and don't bother to take your socks off
Socks are key this time of year
Lambs wool
Lama's breath
Spider lips
Bundle up and turn it on
Keep those tiny embroidered daisies around your ankles and forget what you were talking about
I'm a writer!
I can tell because every time I go to the Grind I run into six people I know through the work
Through the business of salads and words and hugs and hanging lights
Have to settle my tab,
Skin & Toast

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