somethings out of joint

AND because nothing's ever short enough everything's long enough to mean something. when all else fails i remember the blurry haze of sanfrancisco's brisk . it's squeezed apples in my mouth . someone calls this procrastination and i call it luck. or scream CHECK IT then look in the mirror. or do everything opposite for two hours and yell FINISHED when done. i celebrate with a burger.

ten million people tell me to wait. ten million people say nothing. when i get lost in a choice i just go. right now that's what i'm doing. last night we went to cafe paris and danced in a puddle of someone's spilled drink. when walls are painted red the lights are dim and killing a fly is almost impossible .