Thomas J. Dowell-Howko, here, I get tired of wiping sometimes, sometimes I just want to rinse instead. The dishes keep adding up in 2019, who knew I could be so hungry.
I’m struggling through 2019, which is where I love to be. Somewhere half up and down a mountainside, still climbing, the horizon behind me coming to pass and the future is unknown, but just ahead over that next ridge line.
My dog is with me, and I’m living with my sister, right now, I’m watching a commercial wondering why the television is in cable. I guess my sister likes it, I prefer music to television.
Soon I will eat again. We have that in common. I had scrambled eggs and toast mixed with leftover rice, beef and a pork hotdog mixed up in a concoction.
I think about not eating all the time, but I make myself, I know I can not eat, that would be a lot more intriguing.
Timing is wise, says the owl who soars over oak trees, circling over and through twisted branches starving to strike.
Fairly soon, my poetry series will be available online here and perhaps a few other locales. If you are interested, give it a read, you can also sponsor me if you would like to help me develop my artwork. Release MARCH 20th, 2019.