I want to be sunny. A boat full of
the island is reflecting. The sun. And yet
I’ve discovered that I only need to make sense
one day per week. Shh.
What can I say?
Today I lost my black pen and
I did not have a black day
but yet one where I finished a sexy motorboat propelled
(yes propelled awkwardly) by the sun (or whatever).
Of course there’s nothing better to do than that.
The motor was in the water. It was
Eliot Crane Lorca and Stevens.
It was orange water like
the pizzeria in Egypt. Next up? “It’s
nearly ten o’clock.”
More about today:
I got one “miss you” and one “I wish
we’d have fooled around
when I was down in the
summer.”
My routine:
Be alert one day a week.
Bombard my friends with poems.
Poems equals Pizzeria Uno and
an orange boat next to Treasure Island.
