the platitudes of willful resemblance

When I was growing up I was sure of two things. 1. I was retarded and 2. that I was adopted. – eventually I learned that 1. no and 2. no.

however, there is lingering doubt remaining about both only because my nature is different and odd and my nurture is fantastically imprinted.

I was also told that I couldn’t carry a tune and was in speech therapy because I was monotone and thought to be tone deaf – both of these ended life being not true as I have become an accomplished musician and a pretty good singer.

If I was so motivated – this would be the start of my autobiography – or my memoirs as they call them.

what follows is probably terrible or terrific…

the great idiot of us all

the rain sleeps;

passed the nickel

through gates of wrath

after

observedly pounded on

windows and

doors and windows

doors and windows.

slept under lit porticoes

and flooded swails.

– last night I wrote this but may take it back