☬

probably nothing exceptional, the mood for words went hiding somewhere and kept surfacing at the oddest points & occasions, without any drama of sort. at night i laughed my ____ off something Fabio wrote. it was a simple dialogue & kept bursting as if somebody was throwing gallons of oil on it, gallons upon gallons upon gallong & in the end i thought re: the following day, who was i supposed to be contacting, worn off chakal skins being worn, & the inability to concentrate with too many distractions at hand. but that was the whole point, wasn’t it? i was holding a schyte at arm’s lenght, not screaming that i was the grim reaper obviously but implying it in slight sideways dartings, & the constant wuxia of a goddamn heavy shift. can you see what i’m doing? i’m sure you can’t, i can’t as well, so why bother, obras completas of a bandit lying four inches from my knees, will spill no more than half a drop of blood to get the rest cos half a drop is more than enough, there’s bill to get even, set straight, ____ & a magnificient redundancy of too many adjectives. i’ll let you fill in the form until the form fills you & we can happily go to sleep.

but the timetable shifted. tonight. day savings. impossible to fathom wtf is that for. what i know: i lost it, curls & curtseys, will run to disastrous interceptions or simple sampling in too small a typeface, everything sounds the same.

ah, a torch. you know? fire up cracked final draft, write the rest. twenty days deadline even with a stolen hour. will never fully croach on the floor, a mask on the wall. come again.

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