Sometimes In This Writing Life #4


sometimes in this writting life

sometimes in this writing life

you wouldn’t have to wait for anything to boot up
turn on or upload you could just sit down and bang away royal keys upon a cotton rag sheet of water marked paper

you wouldn’t have to settle for crap wine, château Bordeauxs
would be easily accessible even to a low level pot dealer

you could get a soft pack of Marlboro that tasted good better than the hard pack in the days before anyone even thought of lights

and the rent was 180 for five big rooms and a laundry room n full bath including heat n electricity

and you could sit on the second floor back porch blow a joint in broad daylight watch some old ginger tom prowl around some inner city orange rose bush

while the most beautiful girl you thought you’d ever know sat on your lap and your hands found ways to make her melt underneath her long gypsy soul skirt.

 

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