The struggle bus is leaving soon.
We’re all mad here, I fear, most
mad and moonly. Sit down, let’s
whine and dine just fine until we
get fed up with empty cups and
lack of clack. The trick: to click
your heels together and pretend
there’s no place. No game. No
rules, including gravity. Let’s fly
and try our hands at something
not quite so hard. We’ve bought
a bus and we’ll save you a seat un
-til this journey’s found a place to
be. A plus: we’re in good company.
In November, we poem. Sometimes it’s a struggle.
Oh this is way way beyond merely sweet (which surely, it is). Love the way your mind flutters it way to ground and words. You leave me smiling.
This was fun to read! 🤩
I wanted to take the ride!