Snow is falling outside as I write to you now. I’m feeling better after a few days of recovery from minor surgery, slowly pushing myself to do more each day.
I’ve been thinking a lot about expectations over the last few days. A free verse poem below.
You’re lucky if you get one
flavors infinitely complex
Test the nose,
detect floral notes and a hint of bullshit
and it can be yours
A silver platter
of cocaine and your best friends fingers
Write the poem,
fold it neatly and set it on fire
One more taste
of the life I thought would be mine
and I'll dig
a ditch to die in