here's one that i've been giving the 'ol sensual massage to for the past few days. i reckon i was able to give it a few last strategically-placed squeezes just a moment ago that made it satisfactory ... it just seemed done, for lack of a better way of saying - as most of my works do when i reach a certain point, sometimes sooner than later. so here she be.

other than that, today hasn't been all that bad, although i'm getting really burned out from work i think. Tonight i was just dead, and ended up napping for awhile, nursing a somewhat off-kilter stomach. Alas, i just have one more hour to do tonight, and tomorrow's nine hours, and then i'm off for a day on Thursday - for thanksgiving, of course. This should prove a bit interesting since it's my first vegetarian T-day, and i reckon most of the family will still be a bit perplexed at the fact i won't have any turkey, gravy, stuffing, taco salad (a staple on my mom's side of the family), etc.

sorry... no more turkey, bacon, and other assorted dead creatures for the Goat. :) just pumpkin pie and taters! mmmmm and cranberry sauce, fuck yeah dude.

I hope you have the most pleasant of nights, reader, and when you slip into slumber this night, dream of the first time you went nuts as a child and had two fucking packets of hot chocolate mix in one mug, instead of the plain, wussy, watery single packet ... and remember how blissful that was. Goodnight, guys.

--------------------------------------------

the roses

11/23/04

take my hand and let’s stroll
a bit further down this path
let the trees flanking us blend with the land
in a slow-motion blur
while the seashell vapor trails scud overhead
in a fury of urgent retreat
each carving eccentric courses
painted by an idiot’s scattered hand
connecting a million nowhere points
in the silence
and behind that silent place
underneath your vision
notice that little flame, how it whispers orange
like the west this hour
and oh, how it makes you feel young!
so let’s stop for a time

can you still recall how we laughed
under the blue as children,
our knees dusty in the sun?
do you remember?

to us those marshmallow lines in the sky
and the dreams they wept
were hidden away for our later years
but we noticed the grass
and how raw it smelled beneath our heels –
we were young and we noticed the grass!

but many a tick has tocked since then
so pick up with me now and move farther
along this tiny ribbon in the grass
because in this tale we are always young
still shackled and bound by awe
shuffling endlessly
barefoot
on a green rug of wonder