Also, checking and rechecking email.
Also, doing that mean and delightful thing wherein I make fun of writers I consider to be awful. They have to be somehow elevated in the literati academy stratosphere blah blah. Otherwise it's no fun.
This morning I am zeroing in on this particular person homo sapiens sapiens man of wisdom yes yes also highly educated who writes lyric essays and I guess I don't really write lyric essays. I just write things that are poetry and also prose. I do not write ass-suck and use tons TONS of modifiers. I am not flowery and sentimental. I am not soft. There is no pillow on my shoulder.
Whatever is smushy about me is deep inside the belly of a little baby in my chest and she is full chock-full of marshmallow cream and orange and lemons and a little squiggle of chocolate syrup and ball bearings and clackers can you remember ours where green and stinging switches her mother's hands and electric wires around the yard how she dances and she tastes like something that is not air not empty bombast not some up the ass of a thing a meditation on a fucking twig or dog collar.
This is excellent fun. I have been belly laughing. This is also a small mean thing to do but so very lifty. One could float upon one's own meanness vicious bite teeth. There will be weeping and gnashing of teeth. Oh mad girl bad little doll. There is work to be done.
I read a lot yesterday. I'm not sure what the book is but I think it's fiction and it's authored by a woman. I could be wrong. I could be high falootin high brow absurd dumb dumb and say, I believe the authoress is writing superb very innovative uplifting inspired breathtaking suck my tits fiction. But I won't. I will say it's damn good. And I will let you know what it is later.
Obviously I have no desire to work to write to get down today but a lot of times when I least want am not inspired I will just without realizing it slip into a minute in-between my squirreling around and dive in and write a LOT.
Maybe today and maybe not.
I think perhaps I have always been a man my balls not quite descended. Or a split thing tree maybe by lightning boobs booty nuts hardon. Tits.
It's going to be hard to beat this morning.