Sentence sense. Images talking. The fine line between a dream and waking.
What you use to write is what writes. Clothes left out on the line overnight are wet in the morning if it rained in the night. Echolocation as failed literary theory.
Yet it does rain and the sentences do provide comfort. Dueling roosters made the last hours of sleep unbearable. Percolating coffee, a drunk drummer boy.
Take notes re: fauna. What you believe is what you teach. Always is not a kind word.
What emerges from ones and twos? Crossings? There is no relationship between chess and paragraphs.
Will it. While ignoring the obvious I found myself some shoes. A hankering to fiddle, to create, to go West when others are cool with a simple East.
To keep going beyond the period. We are always rewriting always.