*

Ok.

I will do a little art.

*

I remain a stubborn, willful man. Ignorant, prone to making the same mistakes over and over. Blind. Fear-driven. Lazy and indulgent.

But I tear at the walls around my heart.

Would I really destroy them?

Or do I just like the exercise, knowing they’ll grow back?

*

I dunno.

*

Now I aim to lay out on the back deck in the dappled shade of the Japanese Maple and read “The Chosen Soldier” by Dick Couch while I sip from a small glass of frozen Ketel One and listen to the mad birdsong that fills the air in our yard.

I suggest you do likewise, in the manner of your own choosing.

*

We will too soon cease our burning.

***

Namaste.

***

(PS-   I think this is some shit-hot art, personally.)

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