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(one thing)

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the decisions you must make

The complexity of the physics and hardware
does not support switching.

Common areas of dissatisfaction
are outlined below:

  • the need to need
  • the optimal integration strategy
  • who owns unsolicited messages
  • the cadence of changes
  • bed status
  • the option for receiving third-party systems

Viewed over time
is this interface best for you?

This option is not bi-directional.

Conflicts must be worked out manually.


found poetry from the stuff I write at my day job

fall

There’s really nothing left to say, but I keep saying it anyway. It’s a habit I’m trying to break, but I probably never will. He’s stopped replying, but that’s okay. The whole thing was stupid, but I can’t stop thinking about it. Next time I’ll know better, I think, but I know I won’t.

autumn sky
only one of us
deciduous


(prose: here, now. haiku: frogpond 37.1.)

cycling

The man on the giant wheel, using his body to propel it down the street, pauses for two small girls to lie down in his path, narrowing their already small bodies to fit between the wheel’s two rims. Behind him the stilt walkers are growing restless. Finally, casually, silently, the great wheel runs the children over. They scramble to their feet and scatter while the monstrous legs forge forward. Unconsciously we all assess our own size, unsure, suddenly, whether or not we’re appropriate.

 .

with no evidence
of my innocence
spring begins

.

(prose: here, now. haiku: Frogpond 37.1)

chapter five

I told you I’d put you in a novel, but presumably you didn’t believe me. Or you didn’t care for novels. Whatever. You washed down a handful of crushed mixed pharmaceuticals with vodka while I was still on chapter three.

I’d always intended to get around to pinning you down on some of the details. You didn’t like to talk about yourself, which made you either a very difficult person to write about or a very easy one, depending on how much the author cared for verisimilitude.

I used to want everything to be as true as possible, even in fiction, so I had a notebook full of questions for you that I planned to strew carefully into our conversations at planned intervals.

Oh, your hatred of questions. Oh, your avoidance of answers.

I didn’t love you, you know. I suppose you knew.

Chapter four is longer than the first three put together. There is no chapter five.

wasps’ nest
deciding what to call
the poultice