This one's a little bit like a poem...
A sum of perfect called the teeth puller who ate many tons of hay every day suddenly turned into a cause temper that began seething and throwing plates at the wall and making me feel so small. And there was nothing I could do about it, but just be there, as it happened.
How many tails do we bite before we run out of air I thought?
Oh, I’ve seen things, I can tell you; but my time as an organ grinder is coming to a close somewhere up ahead. And as I peer into the distance to try to see it as it comes to me with plasticine over my eyes dragging me down, I recompense my problems into being.
There are magic spells for this that can be found in any old bookshop on a fine day or otherwise, and all you have to do is look for them, mostly.
But maybe there are too many jelly men who are eels to care, and life is what we make it…right?
And we fly as we can.
And we love when it comes to us.
And we take what we can for our needs.
Yes, we love as we can.
And what else is there anyway?
The eleven jelly men came today and took all I owned and left me with nothing.
It was the best day of my life. I encouraged them to take what they wanted. Take it all I said, and raised a cheer to thank god for the eleven jelly men who were eels.
I felt I was just another woman left over and forlorn where the jelly men are eels. But really, I was all that the summers shone for. Glad I was about this as I shoved it aside and out of my way to find myself climbing the mountain again where I can only say: god damn those jelly men.
This must be how fine wines are made around the fires that burn. And as they burn the wine brews finer and finer until there is nothing left but the burning.
Image from Pixabay