Unwoven Divides, Ducks

Tuesday came with much ado about nothing, and left with a lame duck in cloudy waters of a calm sea. I took a total of 250mg of 5-htp, before and after smoking some herbs. In a clouded yellow shed the valley reflected the sun's last gleaming. Pastel divides of my backyard adorned our kitchen's view, peach and blue, the entrance to a cavernous portrait. I hung out with Garrett for a bit, watched SLC Punk with him and ate a ham and cheese sandwich. When I finally felt like sleeping, I was restless and had a little bit of a headache, probably a blood-sugar spike. I smoked some herbs outside my door and went to sleep listening to the internet radio.

Before, between, and after cigarettes afoul my mouth.

Today I woke up late as usual, my sleep still consuming nearly eleven hours. What do I do in all this sleep. My brother was very busy completing last-minute college work, while I lackadaisically romped into the day. A very hot bubble bath and some brunch later I hung out with Mike. We went into the woods for a bit, examining the contents of rancid soda bottles.

I helped my mum empty some top soil bags, and examined the prospects of a garden. It is tax day, so I filed all my taxes, and should be getting $365 back, a dollar for every day of the year. I had four 5-htp today, one before bed. Colors of the dusk's duet were somewhat duller, though keenly as radiant. It was a trash night, tomorrow is trash day.

among the orders in life
disorder is woven
a fabric of duality
sometimes a french duck

sewn at the seams webbed feet
traverse constricting threads, what seem
death defying, can fly
lamely

the patches of our species
bleed for these threads
squeezed for many
coated feces
dyed patterns
deemed grand

a year among twenty spent
inspecting this fabric of patches
says,

"my grandmother's wool blanket
of yarn
strung from streams of thread
from urns
balances not on the edges
of life
but in the rivers
of semblance
unnoticed courses among
mundanity
between the patches
comfort can be concluded"