Listening to music at midnight I don’t much like – because you do. And it would be negligent or monstrous not to give a fair hearing. Bored, I seek out a star-dogged moon. Technically, the moon is a day past full, not a crescent; and it isn’t a star that dogs it. It’s the oak moon if people reckon it right, but they won’t – the month will throw them off.
If, by tending to everything, I could make the world a better place, burn up before my time, or just in time, would I do it? Tell the world how to be … that’ll help. It doesn’t see itself in me, nor I in it, yet we reflect each other. Reflections of lives lived by accident – maybe by choice, maybe by chance. As innocent as the “dumb leper who has lost his bell, wandering the world, meaning no harm.”