to be beebe

lothario in waiting
stepping out of a daydream into the day
days of toiling, cold, warmth, relaxation
biting pain in my neck
or is it my head?
my brain itches. if i could-only-get-that-stick-in-there-id-get-to-scratch
what did you say liz? yes i was listening
i was just thinking at the same time, one shouldn't try to do too much, listen and think simultaneously
the view from my bedroom is hidden more than it is seen
beautiful, unchanging, waiting to be sipped in
or does it care? when im gone someone else will look at you with new eyes, fawn for you and then pull the drapes
deflated balloons in my pockets
deflated balloon on my desk
zombies
wine
buddha
this coffee is acid. but i am its battery
what is your unrelenting passion? the walls ask?
if only i knew, perhaps i wouldn't have to ask the question.