Scramble Lung

“I’ll do the countdown, one hour and ten minutes till we leave to get my new bat.” Jack says.  I promised him yesterday that I’d get him a new bat, and his excitement emboldens and encourages me.  My poetry promise to self….  Today given a new light and speed.  7:55am, espresso of course.  Last night’s wine, a Pinot from Hook & Ladder.  Simple, but that’s all I needed.  Didn’t want complexity or some loud storm of suggestion.  Emma and Jack around me, close.  Feel like I haven’t seen them in days or spent much time with them.  Which is true, but also from me working more than usual trying to get ink, contracts in.  More time with them today, avowed.  Writing from my observations, both little characters – Emma and her ceaseless sweetness, this morning saying first thing “Daddy can I have breakfast?” And Jack my little beatnik mentoring his bat and how there’s two that he’s considering.  I tell him that’s awesome when he says his favorite is an Easton.  Realizing how lucky I am to be theirs, and they mine, much and most of my story.

New manuscript today starting.  New everything.  At the end of the week, what have I built.  Well, it’s not over yet… but so far that new plain of happiness.  What will make me and anyone a more joy-hued human.  Don’t engage nay-saying bodies, and only pursue love.

More music, I decided yesterday over that glass of Rosé at Barely & Bine.  Hadn’t been there in a while and it’s in our fiberoptic territory, so I thought ‘why not’.  More music, different styles and lyrical forms.  Then, my own music…. Instrumentals.  When is there time for composition, not sure.  I’ll figure that out eventually, I’m hoping.  Wait, I see, I don’t need to hope.  Hoping won’t get a beat done, a song, nothing.  Movement will – aim of day is movement.  New movement, new music, new tracks.