life is rife with it
life is rife with it — the little anguishes the sparks of pleasure the swaths of boredom that roll in and out and over you till you close your eyes in hopes that the spinning will stop…and you weigh them ceaselessly those quickly-fleeing little pieces squirming in your fingers in hopes that the good outweighs the bad and you squint at them in hopes that the bad can be transformed if you turn it this way or that or hold it up to the light…and you try to peer ahead and arm yourself accordingly but still the slings come and still it stings…and you wonder if things will ever be better if the quips of wisdom will sink down deep and manifest themselves as action and brightness but I fear it won’t get that much better two steps forward one step back and then another