car over

I have seven empty eyeglass cases on the counter in the other room. The glasses are here and there. One pair I am wearing. A new pair will arrive Friday or Saturday. She told me to throw away the old empty cases. I'm thinking about it, not overly or seriously.

Let me correct that: six cases...I counted.

This paragraph is a chapter in

Taking Care of Counting.

However, nothing was thrown away or accomplished.

everyday i sing a song for you, meri sweetheart.
now you see i'm being tested for my head workings;

wow, they can do a new reworking.

a shortcut to happiness, soon as i get plugged in.
they can, but they won't;
probably it's too dangerous.

i fabricated that anyway, they can't make me better
by plugging me into their wall socket.

ok, now; going to see the Cleveland Indians.

then, doctor/wise, real testing...the type done to old people.

if you have insurance get on board.

i would not pay for it out of my pocket.

ballgame first, then next day doctoring,
so close, driving wise.

wait all winter for warmer days

to drift the river

taking the turns and straights,

going nowhere in particular,

what summer is for.

we can think so,
and remember, love, the Pleiades,

there is nothing brighter.

would like to take the bright stars in from the Pacific.

so where is my boat now?