So, you know,
just how far some thoughts go, sown

I use scents and potions, and write,
and maintain basic,
rudimentary sanitation, orderly mindstate;

but that is not so I can say so, no,

I do not know why it is, but on the streets,
I blend in,
I belong right.
--- in any city I appear the ***.

Not here, indeed, a breeze asks no entrance,

I hear my grandson,
next for puberty, in this life,
whistling, not tunefully, but casually,
hearing himself whistle bits of someday songs,

as he does his Saturday screen free time.

we are not safe
all the markets could come crashing down
it could happen any day now

a blue origin rocket ship
never making it to its final destination

no man knows the hour or the day
no man knoweth that

bridget jones had her cigarettes
with wine and mr darcy
but i only have **** and a plastic
one liter bottle of coke zero
and no mr darcy to know the hour or the day

helen fielding, enabler of the delusional,
recycled happy endings

but the plastic coke bottle
isn't a jane austen novel
and the chinese don't want our garbage anymore

there is enough garbage in china already

"there are 8.3 billion tons of plastic in the world"
8.8 million metric tons are chinese trash
for the yangtze river to carry to the sea

sometimes i feel just like garbage previously shipped to china

trash and blue origin debris
comeuppance for the yangtze river to carry to the sea







endless oceans end
same place plastic rocketship garbage begins