something I’m working on…..

“…this desk at night, 10:18, and I’m fortunate I love words and the vertiginous symptoms they staple.  I’m alive, here, in this chair, writing while my wife watches the Selena movie and my son upstairs rests– just checked on him and he’s fast to his dreams, just placed in his perfect piece, upstairs in that room– his room, his space and place and zone and territory.  Again checking the inventory of my attitude and mental shape, my spiritual fold and if any zen again sends, and what I find I don’t want to dumb to numbers, the same as I don’t want to file wines to simplistic remedializing descriptors.. don’t wines deserve more than that?  And, I nearly balk in saying, don’t winemakers deserve more as well for all they’ve done?  My mood now, in a category, but I won’t word it.  And I shouldn’t have to.  Or maybe in French, since I’m studying it, much I can, fatigué.. Oui, je suis…”