14.5.07

151

May is a much kinder month and I'm here to tell you: that's sad consolation.

Unfortunately April is catching up and my chest hurts a couple ways.

I'm in that place where I feel much like taking one aching, bursitic finger and deleting the whole of these words. Like taking this crappy, corncob full of McClelland's Bulk No 5125, Coyote Classic Full, out of my mouth and throwing out the last 4 or 5 days of song that yielded only 4 short, inadequate verses.

I know, however, that talent has gone out like the tide and I'm not sure when I'll replace it. I fear this is aging and what happens to inspiration.

It must change tempos, as we must but our gauges fail with our confidence. We settle for lesser verse as we doubt our fertility. It isn't that I'll never write something I'm that proud of again, it's that days spend and I doubt the ferver and the number of the words.

Is it that I have so many words and no more; like heartbeats-how smaller animals die so much sooner it seems? Like fast hearts have the same number and burn them like hot fires?

I am no less depressed as I age, and I'm not the old man I wish to be but, the andante is more largo and I am somehow patient and less immediate about it all. All the things I fuck up pass. I can swallow this with feelings or bigger things like lives, but can't pace the metronome with my goddamn songs.

I don't even know what speed I run anymore. I hate time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time time.

Funny, in a way.

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