T R U T H

Read some shitty poetry today and remembered some vomitus inducers I put up under the guise of poignant offerings. Somehow, the place you have to be in when the tulips and lavender flow together is excuse enough for doing it. I had these buddies, business associates, amigos who knew I was a little off but I sent them this hunk of dogdirt that had lines like "wingtips are hung in the locker of the rest of your life" or some crap like that. The worst part  is I thought it was pretty good. How about this line: "impairment is the HOV lane on the imagination highway". And for the human condition crowd  " Gone Broke reads the signs on Burnt out lawns Makes you wonder how many humans Cry themselves to sleep at night Maybe that's why the winds Are so easy to watch. Oh momma, I've seen the rusted hulls and gagged on the barnacles - that by the way is from today  and shows I'm still not cured of the pompous poet period.

Little Baja and some glazed beauties. 7,7,8 today (.5 Z)