I made two sandwiches & didn't photograph either of them. The ingredients were invisible, as a result my breath became bad.
I brushed my teeth, then decided I was still hungry. I ate chili-spiced dried pineapples. My breath smelled just like yours. No really. Really. It did.
I went to LaGuardia Community College. I went to F.I.T. I became tired.
I read two Author Sze's poems. I read a chapter of Kyria Abrahams' I'm Perfect, You're Dommed, Tales from a Jehovah's Witness Upbringing.
I read blogs. Prolly yours.
I'm listening to the latest From Monument to Movement album.
I poured myself a glass of water.
I find out Dan & I are reading on the same day. Sept. 19th. 'tis a shame since all our friends are the same.
I want to dance but I've covered my legs in chili & am pretending to be a pineapple.
Art is art as is is not.