shit.
listening to Aldous Harding.
existence is funny.
one day, it's desolation.
the next day it is crazy horses.
and the next day
you are slow dancing in the kitchen
before the sun rises.
then you end up
finding immense pleasure
in just running errands.
I stretch.
I write.
I wish.
I pour another cup of coffee.
I time travel in poems.
I humorously exist.
idiosyncratic routine.
seen through a POV.
of the only eyes I have ever known.