This happens when the muse strikes on Friday, the thirteenth
I don’t need your respect. You don’t need my participation. I don’t get affected by your buffoonery. You don’t get affected by my straight-forwardness. I don’t mind your mindlessness. You shouldn’t mind my mindfulness. I love being the cactus asking all to be careful. You call others a cactus, then behave like a wasp. I know...
Surfing the net for a muse
I look around These ravaged times Discovering struggling bits and bytes Pick them up to make them chime And wonder at their flights! I am a healer Of words that lie disparaged In heaps on highways where no one treads And suture them to build a maze Or simply sculpt the lonesome shreds! I click...
