I learned how to forge fake glass in my home over the holiday.


I learned that frayed edges on the hem of otherwise pricey pants on happens to make the wax filled stance cost just that much more.

I held on to a basket of old receipts that lasted longer than my marriage.

It saved me thousands of dollars,

but still I disparage the process,

and have to much pride to counter act and access the process,

founded out of fired,
mired in pumpkin mud,

living life,
feeling fire and holding beauty,

but never able to forget that I'm a dud.

I'm producing a fanciful musical,

founding on impatient propriety.

Mulling indignation, stewed in salt and peppered annuity.