…she didn’t say a word.. I use this for writing

for momentum for my rebirth as it were. I’m alive this morning, more than I’ve ever been! All for my priority plate: POETRY, music, the prose that’s so beautifully confessional and that my wife an mother warn I shouldn’t put out there. I have to. Maybe not on the blog, okay, occasionally, yes, but I must be honest and aggressive with that Hemingway fire and truth otherwise I’m dead and my little boy has a coward as a father. While having a beer with Mary afterwork yesterday, she made me laugh, made me see humor, made me forget.. I wish I was as strong as her, not this sensitive Artist, but I’ll learn, I will… Plato say music is a universal law, that it is moral, that it’s about life, then today, I’m musical, my own genre, defying all formalism (like my grad school poetry professor), and everything saying I have to write this way, think like this, sing like this.. be careful, someone might read.. isn’t that the point? but okay, I become more covert, more cunning, more methodical, more predatory.. a stronger poet, prose carver… oh look at me go, high on caffeine like Kerouac on benzadrine.. I’m alive, and if you don’t approve of this style and intensity then it’s obvious you wish me dead. BEAT4EVER!!!