Sorry

[rejectomorph]

What I call yesterday there was a list in my head of things to do, and then I fell asleep when it was too late and my head of things to do was and is undone. Dreams took lists apart and I woke up the gray sky anticipating dawn and what yesterday I called today was all tatters in my head of things undone. This undone thing of words is something already undone yesterday and un-doable now because yesterday is all tatters in my head of things undone. I fell asleep and left the computer on all night and in another room where I slept the television on all night, and all night words went through my ears and me with no idea of what they were. They were not mine. They flowed and crowded and tattered my thoughts and caught around my dreams the way some yesterday's castoff papers will catch on passing feet on windy city streets in old movies or stories or in the gathered years of castoff tatters I call my imagination. Soon I will click a virtual button and all these and those tatters will blow ons and offs through this tenuous notion called the Internet to tangle elsewhere. Sorry for the litter. It's that I slept but not well you see, and my undone head did things that are this, and now must make a list of things to do what is now what I will call today.