poetry sunday

October 8, 1997and drowsywishing for thathalf sleepI wait for what will cometo take me homeor take me awayas I knowthe two hoursI slumbered last nightin someone else's armswere not enoughand can never replacethe hours I could have spentwrapped in my sheetslike mythology in my own worldnever knowing who I amor caringbecause there I can fly

black books…

I have this black book... no no no, not a little black book, not a little black book full of booty calls and conquests, if one of those ever existed it would be long gone by now. I have this black book. It's big and covered in canvas and made for drawing, sketching really.Now let … Continue reading black books…

where am I?

The last several days there have been A LOT of pictures taken around these parts. Tons. And not just by me. There have been videos too, I've had nothing to do with those.Why? Well cause Bubblewench has been to town. She brought hubbyman and her dad along too. It's been a blast. Good wine. Good … Continue reading where am I?

quickeeeeee

it's 8:39 and for the first time in a week or 2 (how long has K been on summer vacation? the days melt into one another until there is no difference) we are all awake...Mr. Kaos is already zipping off toward his huge conglomerate, K is watching Peep (sounds, dirty, but it's about a chicken … Continue reading quickeeeeee