i have to help doc with some things around the house, and then i am passing out. for many hours. curled up in my white hospital blanket with the cat drool stains and my dog with the bad breath.
i've written some thirty poems in the past month. not bad. i don't remember a one of them. they are written in haste and rarely thought of again, until someone comments on one and i wonder what they are talking about. then i go and read the piece. most of them are written at some prompt or another, and wouldn't really stand on their own.
okay, home tasks finished. time to sleep and rest my mind. i want to wake up and do some designing and photo stuff.