Hold in anxiety, then
let it dissolve to some frothy
nothing. MY day is
my day, a row of gems on either
side that I can just stare at and walk
playing whatever tune in my head.
Attitude of this, this new this for
me in a sweet forever like, tah-tah-tah,
tah-tah-tah… jazz in everything I’m saying and thinking,
new function of a writer just revolving around in some
inner shiny door.
What was that word, “anxiety”? Who.. what.. what—
Exactly, non-concept. This is a very much ME day.
There… now I turn page.
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