When pigeons flit outside your window, take it to mean that a storm is brewing. When the storm doesn’t arrive, remember that it has already come and gone in some other part of the world. And that it will come to your part of the world, tomorrow, or the day after that, or the day after that. Which is to say: Yours is a country of water, which is to say: the river flows. Remember that it flows to the sea, which, in this case, is west. Or, if you look at the world’s reflection on a spoon, east. Keep a fork in hand, always, in case some stabbing needs to be done. Which is to say: There will be no True North as long as there are spoons. Hello, spoon, hello, bald kid, hello, Crystal Snowball that Keeps the World from Disintegrating, have you gotten as much sleep as you would like, is that a toothpick in your belly, how long has it been since you’ve last visited your grandmother’s grave? Hello. Boom boom boom, then boom goes the bassline, boom goes hungry kitten, boom goes the pillbox and someone lost her feet.
My boss, he has a Tumblr. He is more popularly known as The Poet Named Mikael de Lara Co. Attack!