teething.

Didn’t get to run this morning, but matter no.

Still can own the day, exercise my

creative onus–

By my own bus, boss,

gather material,

my story,

the entrepreneur father who runs and writes and teaches and refuses

to be slowed.

I show today,

the whole world in fact,

that I don’t slow–

This coffee’s my first story of the 6th,

In month 8–  go go go…

Enough planning and noting, and vision–

Just shape the day as you see it written and

arranged.

Another… Sipsipsip–

I’d be in a lone skirmish without this offer–

Praise, I give it, even though all it wants is to

be sipped, fast or slow, it doesn’t care.

But I care.

I care if it cares.

The story demands I care.

And I do, about very thing I’m writing.

It’s not just a cup–

It helps me survive, recover from a nuit of

segmented sleep.