Tuesday, September 20, 2016

Agnostic intent

This fine morning, Lord,
I woke and breathed, deeply.
I opened my eyes and squinted up,
sighting, blearily, the roof over my head
from the soft comfort of my bed.


I sat up and stretched, mightily.
I stood up, carefully.
I staggered, confidently,
a few feet to another room
where I could relieve myself
and wash up to the sound of running water,
drying with big fluffy towels.







Anarchisitic   Routine

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