Plans. Or rather, a To-Do list. It's something I do lately to figure out what I do.

Past-
Got in a van, one hour fifteen minutes to
Pioneer Village, secret gardens where we unraveled all the unknowns
Lamiaceae, Rosoidea, Apiaciea Edgar Allen Poeacea.

Present-
Sit on chair that doesn't face desk, laptop on
lap, think about how a certain 'evil book' has shaped even
these words that someone might read long past midnight.
Look at stomach, it is creame white, flatter than it was even a week
ago, thanks Plant Taxonomy with hikes everyday.
Recall new words to a song that is unspokenly ours - we can
rewrite whatever we want. I love your word-heat. desirefire.

Future-
Get a sandwich at Subway!
Do every spec of laundry and put my room in boxes
Study Study Study
Laugh about how just last night, in mockingfunny voices we said -
"but i just want to do my laundry and study..."
Go to EPZ show at the shoebox
Do what ever the fuck I fucking want
fuck fuck fucckk

"its syllabic sweetness, its immigrant pride, a great American epic word really, starting at the lower lip, often the very front of the lower lip, before racing all the way to the back of the throat, where it finishes with a great blast, the concussive force of the K catching up then with the hush of the F already on its way, thus loading it with plenty of offense and edge and certainly ambiguity. FUCK."
-Johnny Truant...