August 4, 2014 -(18˚C / 64˚F @ 10:07 & raining here.)
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Never know where to begin-
I thought I’d try to tidy up a bit
-for the exterminator?-
as we’re moving me
into this apartment
We never seem to get Anything done
when we’re together-
came across an
unfamiliar box
contents in a jumble
-all the time you’ve known me
there’s been some kind of crisis
looming very near
very dark
maybe it is the time of Man
maybe it is a season
for me to dance carefully
between disasters
and try
-not to get crushed
Maybe our lives are
portable messes
that we can sort through
or store as-is
and maybe
neatness doesn’t count at all
it’s how you live
and what you give
to each other
and the world
around you-
((( Feels like circa 1991 ? )))
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((( I don’t know if this is one of the things Jim Wrote and typed and left with me or is it something I sat down and wrote after one of our first attempts at a writers’ workshop? )))
———djo———
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