Dear Blog Family
Their logic is due to the fact that the 5000 references I provided from my three years of government experience in Australia don’t cut it. Because I was unable to pull a reference from one of my previous places of employment in the States out of my ass over Thanksgiving Day weekend, I lose.
Or according to me… I win…
Sure I spent all morning boohooing over broke-dom with a clenched fist to the sky saying ‘HOW?!? HOW AM I GOING TO SURVIVE NOW?!?!’
And then guess what happened? My poetry block lifted. I spent the day writing verse about the mysteries of the world, how yes means no, how mysterious creatures referring to themselves as ‘humans’ think they hold every right to dangle the fate of another in their hand, break it into fine pieces, line it up, and snort it in front of you.
Oh! And then I powered out a few thousand words of the memoir, and did heaps of editing. So I guess I should say, ‘Thanks for the head fuck nameless organization. You’re right, a few more days to write full-time won’t hurt at all. Ps. You’re a wanker.’
Here’s a piece of today:
Carvings of history. Scars. My view
Beyond begging. Pleads of a Pleiadian,
Hieroglyphic tattoos. Paint my body
In invisible ink. Eye. Composed.
A butterfly orchestra. To hide within.
Seeking. Erosion. Where? Down. This body.
Snapped. Sacrifices. Common kindling.
My fire eternal. Flavors of flame
Burn. This act. A pile of ash
Carried by breeze. A further place,
Wage will not purchase your presence.
Open arm grip. Unextended reach.
Silent movie laughter. Watch
How I rise.