Resurrection (By the Bootstraps, A Revolution)
I am going to get my hands in the dirt and it will all be glorious and my knuckles, they may freeze. The page may run out and I may have the horror of a new blank one. The words may very truly run out. My love may be mistrusted, my intentions and ego may be speared. Let them be so. It doesn’t matter. I wish for my joy about things to be resurrected. I feel that my body has been pushed and that there is no longer any time to be lazy. I want to work every day to do these sword tricks, as I said that I would. My friend sews lovelier and lovelier things. It is nighttime and a full moon. Let the creativity manifest. Let the joy ring out before there is no time to do so anymore. Let the writings write themselves. Let these side businesses have the proper care and attention. I know that more people are getting to know me. I know that I am a multitalented artist. I know that these moments have to be taken in the smallest pieces, and that is frustrating to me. Something beautiful just flowed ou...