Rainy Wednesday morning and I don’t owe you shit. Another seven applications in the hopper and I wonder how the Kool-Aid is spilling out of the pitcher east of here. Drunken masterpiece in Kansas City and pile of rentals stacked up to the ceiling. Avocado breakfast hotel lobby. Cascade. Cascade. Cascade.
Riding bikes along the river. Riding bikes along the quiver.
Riding into the city and up to the Washington. Cigarette smoke on the banks of the Hudson. Over and over and over and over. I’m you! I am the new version of you! Fading. Waning. Rainbow.
One-hundred words. Check in. Check out. Have another drink and don’t you ever call me mister again. This one is all over the place and I suppose that’s okay because we make the rules here. Writing. Writing. Writing.
I wonder why you disappeared though? Left to read the thing and then poof. Evaporated. Onward.