Day 48

3/29/2006

All your scribbled lovedreams are lost or thrown away,
Here amidst the shuffle of an overflowing day.
Our love needs a transfusion, so let's shoot it full of wine.
Fishin' for a good time starts with throwin' in your line.

Tom Waits, New Coat of Paint

Tending towards troubled touchstones of ponding palaces with pleasure's pliés, I will bring to my game of Caesar-rendering those behavior proprieties that will in no way mark my brow with the smudge of footloose thought, my prayers now strictly entre nous, and speckled with withered cares of day's dust gone. Take long the winter's waste of chill, I haven't yet dug the narrow curve of solemn basestones to hold the liquid arc, the kinetic charging of belted battery to spring the baited lure. Another count is to be trusted not in the candor fail of center-wail that closet falderal entails.

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