Hats.

I'm writing haikus today, I decided. I just read four hours of John Donne yesterday and started On the Road by Kerouac...so many words crammed into such a small span of time. Yet I find myself loving how sensual and explicitly he writes for his time of the 1600's. Look him up.

I'm also realizing how much of my time I spend in the Teacup. Not that this is a bad thing...

Woman in a hat
opens tins full of smell and
possibilities.

Dang, dude. Take a look!
I spilled all my London Fog
in your teal pants crotch.

Forward I could be
or is this one of those times
where we remain friends?

Tangerine green cup
cools as the hours vamoose.
I sit, warm caboose.

That's all for today. Peace.