geyser

contemplating pulp or the news. another death in high definition, turtles bleeding from their eyes. mine are tired from lack of dreams and we can only watch so much. the cat keeps me captive, in bed, from reaching my potential, etc. something else to blame today. I wring myself dry of thought until I'm drifting to the moon on the ghosts of passing cars. wait in supermarket traffic and the chemist for a friend. always safer between places I should be. the chain comes off but I'm a geyser and get back on the road again.