Monday, January 23, 2012


Old friend, I haven't sought you out for awhile. I have thought of things I need to tell you or work out with you, but it is always in the early or late hours as I lay alone, the hours when my brain starts spiraling with forty thousand disjointed ideas, fears, emotions, dreams, songs, poems, one line from a movie with Nicholson that I saw in the 70's, my Mama saying "I don't think I'm going to make it" and knowing, me, I won't go to the doctor, no,  I won't, God, your will be done, needing a change, how to change, "Spare Change, Spare Change" dog misses his yard, I lost his yard, I should have tried harder, I'm sorry, need some magic, pull something off once more, I can sell, no, I don't like to sell, why not, it is honorable, people have needs - you fill those needs, nothing magic there, maybe that is why. I like magic, I want HIM,  these people are insane, no really, they are certifiable, best play along. Old friend, it is hard to put into words.



Kay McKenzie Cooke said...

I love this. A wonderful magical jangle of words that manage to make so much sense. It describes so well that feeling of trying to get to sleep while the brain is struggling to process stuff. The pain is written large and raw, without self-pity. Thanks Dona.

Dona Bogart said...

I came back here to hide this in the "draft" folder with so many others that I have hidden there and I saw your comment. Thank you, you always make me feel it isn't just crazy talk...that somewhere is my ramblings I said what I was trying to say and someone heard me. Thank you for listening. I think you do know how much it means to me. x