ALL POETS ARE THIEVES!!!

Friday felt like a Wednesday, Saturday like Thursday, and consequently this Sunday feels like a Friday. So I tap this text two days later on an empirical level but atmospherically I'm right on time. The day is tinctured by a certain wintry grace and the ominousness that accrues like anxieties about the new week. I feel cast in quiet reverie, reading Renaissance's post from yesterday and taking from it a serenity in spite. Looking to the future is impossible without new eyes and vision-- until I can afford them I'll maintain a steady gaze on what's in front and what's possible in spite. To my fellow citizens of the world--and my fellows are limited to the few and the good and the many in want--we should maintain our heads and hearts. If unable to do so, rather than engage in superfluous or injurious activity, we should start getting robustly creative: concocting puffy pies to throw in the face of law enforcement, darning suits with jailhouse stripes for sitting politicians, burying alive crooked financiers in outsized polyester purses, curing every disease threatening humanity, and stopping, with the snap (or two) of a finger, every single violent conflict in the world. Imagining such prospects in spite can deliver us from despair. J/C