Loren Cressler All too familiar, this watching the sunrise from the wrong end and drinking wine with breakfast as others wind to bed and I begin a day without finishing the one before it. Crisp, awful, empty morning from I don’t know where. Garishly glaring late night daylight blinds; gibberish squishes out in place of my words and confuses because this hour should be useless.
Still, expediency demands, frugality demands and logic is abjured and I fly and sleep demands and I never knew I left the ground and suddenly a m s t e rd a m .
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