'writer's block'.......it requires a lot of energy to hone the seemingly immaterially vast space between one's ears, to produce meaningful expression......
the largesse of writing repositories ........[ants will move boulders to reach their underground depositories......full of the soft putty premonitions of the same stuff, with but the tiniest alterations in the genes....and the unconscious expectation of something radically 'different' from a twist in a chromosomal sequencing........] Eyes 'forward', Truman.....the streetcars aren't even stopping 'there', anymore......Mrs. Stone kicked both Blanche and Stella to the curb to get some 'piece' of Mind....and Thomas Lanier is re-writing The Fugitive Kind, just to keep the typewriter working. Sometimes it takes a shiny silver shovel to 'shovel' this sibilant shit......or, so says my sobering sobriquet.... Perhaps, then, you can hear the 'Dogs Barking' at the 'Summer Crossing'....whether its coming from Alabama, Tennessee, Mississippi or Georgia.....or, from 'not quite random juxtaposition'....... Have another drink,...