A few days from here -
before I step into a year of difference -
I could drink some ink,
to purge it out
into a new language.
Maybe then,
I'd live this second
(or less)
when something's more
than just a voice
strangled in syllables:
Perhaps my mouth
would be able to birth an artwork,
abstract like a female body;
aesthetic as in Dali's thoughts.
That very moment -
I could pretend to be someone
who is proud to have a beard,
without realizing it's only dust
caught in drool.
And I'd stop babbling
into balloons.








you should have kicked it
lol











LISA














may babies rule!!!
well, happy early birfday to ya!! 

58 old applause
