I wanted to start this with a curse, but couldnt find one that anyone would think was mine culturally. I wanted to tell you how things move on and how you've nailed nothing down with a forever. things move on and even a swim begins to pull and a smile is a drain. when i look back and i look here and ahead, there are small circles and rapid repeats. The new job I took up last month, I might drop by the end of this month when I leave for a friend's marriage from which I may not return. i may not even attend the marriage and i'll lean back and say my hit's coming soon and all that will have happened is that I didnt make it come.

And I'll remember all the reasonable people I ever met and maybe being reasonable is the kindest thing you could ever do. And why should I talk of kindness at all? Because I don't think it's shameless to remember childhood like the vulnerability of a young nomadic family in nomans land. Where every stranger's special glint in the eye was the greatest sparkling palace for some scruffy midgets three.

I won't remember the morbid bloats who crossed me out, because theyre all the same, so I'll remember them as one single bollop that doesnt even smell like the gutter, because I've found recently I actually find the smell of the gutter has a special appetizing appeal.

I will remember the birds (happy flitting in the drain) and aphids (on the autodriver's back), and all the dogs dogs dogs recklessly selling love with lambent eyes on narrow streets. Dogs making connections and losing everything again and again for love. not just food.

I might hold on, I might let go.
A little shakily, I might even let you know
(How smart is that?)