following yesterday’s ramble

I wonder if I find myself this morning in a state like Lewis Carroll may have found himself in anticipation of his poem ‘Jabberwocky?”

Let’s see — There was a cow-ness to the gentility when lugging the dancing library all the way home. Winter cannot wait, Brian Wilson feels the giggly stuff. Once on a boogie board, twice at the peanut butter. A pair of suns, my gas tank’s short. Still time to rescue boxes. Grace picks me in a lady’s choice.

Teenage riot on the tube. Here’s me bowing, every single mom. Me with all this cow-ness.

“All mimsy were the borogoves,”