With ideas ever more adorned, the act of expression overwhelms definition. Experience has taught me we need more of it! See this feigned waiting, working through the gradual progression of a disguised wind-up. Habit is the home, how often do we step outside it? Unopened and in storage. Delivered to be imagined away deep in the basement of another stockroom day. My freedom draws its line at love. The hammer of soul with the force of nature commands me up the stairs to wield a connecting power. Head heavy with intellectualized biological imperatives, darkfooted through scalding fog, I set out into the night for what? “You wear too many clothes with your words!” “I’ll hum the dotted line, sing with me to sign!” “May nothing so abrupt as human worry enter into the equation, everything is solved until we misrepresent the question.” “Messenger gull, your breath delivers coast. We don’t need an ocean view, the pond will do. We’re pond animals anyway.”