GATE LEFT OPEN & FOUR GONE ASTRAY

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LESSER HABITS
I went outside today and looked at the sky for oh about ten minutes. It was clear and high, you could look at it for hours if you had the time. I had to get ready for work. Back inside I got ready to go. Then I did.


THIS IS NOT ANY KIND OF

Vanishing rare that day was. Today is pleasant. Not really. What does it matter what I feel? What you feel? One of those stupid senseless arguments took place today. In my house. The kind of argument you have with someone you love that is full of such animosity. Why are humans like that? Why do we do the things we do? Not learning is what humans do best.

DECIDING TO BE SOMETHING I AM A LAMPOST
I must confess to feeling a great deal more contempt for literature than at any time in my life. Poems seems utterly idiotic to me. Contrived, overwrought, a scaffold made from lies. But I like the imagination going where I will never go in life.


MY HANDS HURT
You reach a certain age and your hands hurt. I’ve worked at manual jobs a lot in my life, the kind of jobs that leave your hands a mess at the end of the work day. It is getting harder for me to type. My fingers are often sore. At times I find myself unable to pick change up from flat surfaces. This is depressing to think about. Growing old isn’t a great pleasure. There is not one thing associated with growing old that is to be looked forward to. Perhaps death. But death isn’t a part of life. We live through other people’s deaths. We don’t live through our own. Perhaps there is a god after all. Have mercy on me, O Inept Maker.