New Orleans - March 21, 2020

All time spent trying to love and trying to love myself, too. Who, you? This whole thing tracing backward, insidious. Will we ever try that restaurant? We? The restaurant? It’s a madhouse double gamble no protection fallout shelter in place bullshit tornado warning. It’s everything I can do to say snap pea, red wagon, arm chair. Where’s Marianne? Get her. Too many books with pages like dominoes falling, dripping like morphine that can't stop the drowning. It’s payday somewhere. Who gets the goat? I get a vent and my singing’s done. Is my singing done? Who’s done and what is done? Let’s really complicate things here. By a show of hands, who gets a vent? I better talk to my God. I better get in line, Pancho. Ay, ay, ay. Simplify the formula, get your milk straight. Dear God, please save us. We watched Titanic and it didn’t end well. Raised on tragedies but somehow snowflakes. Fifteen love. Game’s a sham. That ten dollars in the water, just waiting. I got a hook on a line. I got a hook on a line in my mind. I'll get a hook—let me get a hook. 

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