Each month, write a new collection.
What is in the wayI’m thinking to run for City Council. Graft really pisses me off. The games and politics played with payback friends, miss the mark of morality. My privacy stands in the way - me, who doesn’t do facebook, though I lurk and track technology and whistleblower march. On elections Bernie backers would teach me the ropes, and help figure out the funds. Thought tenacity strong, con-man fast talkers with numbers, would demolish me in a minute. I don’t sit out, I will sit down, but stand up I can’t decide. I should start a private practice. Sitting on people skills is wrong. But I hate marketing myself. I hate marketing for money. Roadblocks. Cavernous earthquake holes. Towers of Terror. But there is a world of need. Mental health. Trauma. Stress. How shall I trade in poverty freedom, to contribute to the commong good, in a world of need. how do I pay the bills and be credible. Business operatons are a chore.I should take ownership of this building. I’m resourceful and creative. I work hard in sweat equity. But I need a team of skills. My accounting takes to long, and hovers on mistake. I love my ordered tools, but I need real workers to live in the real world. I’d have to hire construction workers, and closely supervise. I’d have to negotiate for fees. I’d have to take financial risk. And I can not be the nice guy, with renters who abuse. I want to make sense of the poetry collection. I want to barricade the schedule, so I can percolate. I want to turn inside out, and see behind the lens. I want to be blown by the wind.