Where is the smart money going?
into the non-making,
the uncounting,
the
       trans
                 virtual
                             soothingly
                                                nothingly
                                                                  bliss

I
feel
that
you
felt
down
today,
but
consider
that everyone
can not be an upper.

to disembody,
to be
of purer stuff,
without the
"st-ah"
and without the
"uff",
that would be,
for
      now,
              enough.

The deep contentment
of my cat's purr
seems evidence
of his not being completely
of this universe,
but in some mysterious way,
a clever bridge
to another,
that in my humble human state,
I'm not presently privy.

Oh, Joel,
I see you've gone the way
of HP vanity
with your two score & eight cantos
            pdf-ed
                         and
                                covered
in Escheresque!

============
Wishing you brisk sales and an IRS audit :-)

Is love a selfish thing
serving but one master,
each of those coupled merely daffed
believing it is theirs to keep?
But love is its own master,
comes and goes, or does a fickle dance,
though from time to time
may be prodded - poked, cajoled
to do one's narrow bidding.
In the end romantic love will depart,
then best to hope that in its place
it leaves friends that go on caring.

Every room was painted wrong,
there wasn't a stick of furniture,
even the light needed bathing,
having come through greasy windows,
the interior space begged to be outside,
each echo cringed at its own birthing,
the ceilings wanted to be the floors,
the floors resented all the walls,
and the walls told both to take a flying -
but this was but a partial molding
of the metaphors for this less than perfect day.