Bunkers beget Columbians and it’s mapped easy back and forth what a trip. Fifteen letters and a disappeared dad. I want to go to the only Curious George store in the world. Spanish cheese would accompany me and it would be grand.
It’s sitting heavy in my stomach right now. I know the culprit but it’s worth it and enconchado and old photos I wish I appeared in of people on poles. All this on a back drop of shell encrusted shelf desk upright wooden sparkling in the gibbous light the halfhearted too long silence in between pop of the fire. The sparkle of the end. Another 365 and it’s all for. My eyes too far on the way down to ask a question. Here’s to it. Let’s tip our hats and sit back.