a young frayed quilt

It’s too early to worry on a non-weekday.

But then again what a nonsense thing to say.

Death and the love will come to us all through their own ways and means. Wild, wooly, whether you worry or not.

Ad hoc committees advise authority, argue about accountability, while ignoring the actual execution of manifesting the objects of their words.

Slings of arrows fly while mouths full of slang work tirelessly on the sly.

Mind abrasions

Sure it burns, but so do embers, Roman candles and other superficial pains.

Merely a skinned brain knee.

Seeking friction. Yet surprised upon finding that sought. Defamiliatization appears as though thru the lens of new prescription lenses.

What once was adequate is now questionably so.

Who is the knower and how can they confidently say so?