Sunday, April 10, 2011

any given sunday

I plan on asking him if he has any suggestions, if we can do anything better or is our enough his enough and if so what does he know. I'll forget or maybe I won't and if I don't his answer is to be surely pat at the start and later only expounded with my urgency. This is not new territory for me, sir, in fact I live my life as a question rather than an answer so what's the answer.

He doesn't know but maybe he'll pretend. Surely he will poke at the question with humor, play with a smile, confront with the sarcasm and one last sentence to actually convey his thought. That sentence will carry me home and play in my head. Maybe I will bring it here. May be not.

Times like these could call for a determination to allow, to follow one's gut if it can still be found amongst all those other organs. One of those moments when the act of questioning is the answer. I knew it all along. I can't do this alone.


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