Most Fridays only contain three or four hours of teaching and then the afternoon and evening are free. God it is nice. Here is a revision of an earlier poem. Still in the works, but moving in a better direction. Think the manuscript is changing. Prodigal Drift is no longer the right title.
Detergents force out dirt and foam is the spirituality of luxury. The washing machine is a house of memory with a music hall of tumbling cycles. Whosoever cycles among the signals will grow ears. New clothes are old clothes in new bottles. Reckless rhetoric is a reflexive lyric.
Dirt is my lunch and my lunch
is written on the wall.