Toodle-oo

I think I'll scrape the rougher encrustations off my day

today and stay somewhere beyond the ego’s pale: catch up

with Hill and Dale – leap over Hill, make love to Dale. Or play

the enigmatic Melville whale and be whatever that entails –

cut living into tender meat and eat it, flow as unencumbered

by bewilderment as I can choose to be; let all neurosis be

unthinkable and sadness, news to me. Doesn't mean I'll opt

for gladness: merely skim the waters with a slick bare skin,

be fodder for each cosmic whim (is there another way

to swim?). I cannot buy into the aims I see around me

anymore. I don't adore one thing I notice others do.

And so today, and possibly for longer: toodle-oo.

.