A toast to the bread that went into the toaster.

Letters are really outdated, aren't they?
Lately I've been getting into them again,
Writing to people whom I want to...

Mmm.

There are no words in the English language, unfortunately,
To describe the emotional crisis I'm feeling.

Clinging to conformity,
Craving crisp, new ideas
To install into individual ideas.

Instead newborn newbies,
Never knew the needles
That would nip them if they came close to,
Anything else.


*Down came the rain,
And washed the spider out.

Buttercups,
Lilies,
Orchids,

Only
Manifest.

Me,
On drugs?
Nah.

Or rather
Thinking about it just makes me sick.

One-of-a-kind, sick.


Nobody really thinks about
One thing at a time, instead they'll try to
Understand pictures in their entirety.

*Silly people.

Sometimes people don't really
Understand the
Remarkable,
Perennial, things of
Regretting seizing the day.
Instead, they'll dwell on it and
Sometimes,
Everyone is suddenly brought
Slowly into the problem that was never there to begin with.