every day is like a brand new opportunity for nightfall.
i’m not mad about that. I’m a poet, and poets are mad hatters.
i awoke with my tongue in my shoes.
but my feet were not my stride.
every now and then...the Past is a tad sadder.
but i’m happy through it all
yet cannot laugh gladder.
like cat food and consciousness.
i persist like a meal
for a wee beast
and a think.

or I don't matter.