Memory of what could be.. fastened to a dream.. take that little something in
time build.. make it gleam..
was it failure?.. cannot say.. did I focus well?.. think so still.. there it sits bucket posted ‘Hell’..
Was that the way it was?.. rank ‘atomic steam’.. failed whatever to forget.. for now think of the ‘gleam’..
best part of a dream..
mental ramble not to gamble still.. I am alone.. judge is weighing sludge for presentation of new phones.. born and bred city woodshed lot of women there.. remember each dance pair of pants bit of sex they shared.. down in mildew alley.. entrails of let go.. left forgotten evermore dreams today must grow.. forward there in honor.. sense of love to see.. thus follow clues great grandpa left..
on.. how life really be..
Thought.. ‘Dismal takes on a new dimension when one brings past wounds to an ever-changing.. ever needful present.. no memory should do any more or less than make a new dream better’.. Peace Tony
FOR THIS FIRST DAY OF SPRING.. 🙂