If I paint this out, I know I will be alright. I am alright! It's just some timely images that appear like a dream falling out of my brush. Like poetry acknowledges the pain behind metered words, this grouping plays humorously with a soul's (mine? yours? his?) longing.
I found the headline used in the Los Angeles Times...didn't make it up.
Feel as though I have slipped, in my mental and emotional psyche, down to the bare bones. With nothing left to think of or do, (no head, arms, or legs), I might as well just soak in the tub.
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