UNEMPLOYABLE

Behind me the lane lines glitter like someone is throwing flairs out there car window as I speed home, just a lonley little hypocrite vagabond in a little blue abduction van. Life keeps spoon feeding me all that I have ever swore off and I try to swallow without much resistance and I get older.

Yesterday with a van full of old window weights, iron cages, bakelite toggles, brass and bronze switch covers, electric locks, and 40 pieces of germany track lighting, Mr. Ginter and I have lunch. We fight the entry stench of an old latin grovery store in PG county to rustle up a bit of lunch, and not for a lack of trying to be healthy we just down a few little bricks of hershey's ice cream. It's starting, something, creativity, without a muse, just on me, and the fabrications factory is too, almost a reality. I am by myself and I watch the grass grow in the backyard around the chipmunks, and birds and try to not think too much, all the while drifting with this silent force that pulls me along to an unusual life. I feel lucky.