littleworries

This is a drawing I am working on.  Working on the things, little things, things to be published and printed and pet-petted.  I shall show you in good time.  When it becomes pertinent and you lovely sorts can buy the books and lick them for cleaning.

I do not know the greysong.  Not awful well, just passing parts in the dark dark dawn. Perhaps I wander past you on or between those two bridges.  I often stoop and snooze with the ducks.  They do not seem to mind, though I do not tend to wake them. And there are those trees, that swirling part, that buzzing box.  You might be there also. Do please feel alright about saying hello, or waving, or pressing your fingers on me, to check on my parts or my pulse or my pain.  That would be a niceness and I expect we would go find some cake and firewater and get married.  What a baffling day.