Meanders In the Stream

(A 4a.m. write, about an hour before sunrise today.)

I haven’t thought or done or swum a stream of consciousness write for quite awhile, wild windings unwillowed wanderings stiff joints but still stepping points is this a sentence grammatically or judicially, query noted, correctable verbiage bloated, floated, noted, gloated only the shadow knows where it goes. On another hand Murikami’s The City Of Uncertain Walls (街とその不確かな壁) entrance only if your shadow’s left behind I find or found dissonance resonance in day to day today this very month of May. Showers bring June flowers in central Alaska but I ask ya did you know Ace Hardware sells 40 pound bags of pig food at least near here that’s present tense. Future’s probably tenser but no need to borrow from tomorrow what we can rue today. Yesterday is not that war away but as time goes flies several decades before are harder to ignore with much of this from here an that from that in store, mix in a bit of AI and we’ll see if we get bye. Spring breakup still a few snow mounds bound by massive puddles, rivers flowing high but no spring flooding budding this year as far as I hear and anyway I’m not complaining eighteen hours and three minutes twix sunrise and sunset here today at roughly latitude 64.84°N and and longitude: 147.5° W and tomorrow will be 7. 1 seconds longer. Will make you stronger. None the less 80 proof will do on most occasions though sometimes a hundred’s needed must be conceded. The road not taken, the loads of roads not taken don’t and shouldn’t make no nevermind when I surmise and realize none, not one leads to today, which is quite OK. OK it’s been 3, 4, maybe more months since I bought bread, instead peasant bread water, flour salt, sugar and yeast fits my knead. Though far to many have agreed with whatever our betters have decreed and the roads not taken are closed forever I’ll choose my own pace and path toward tomorrow’s another way. You no what you no and that’s OK while it’s not for me to say. Wonder and blunder through and to whatever never give it a rot as it’s all you’ve got and that’s just fine as long as it doesn’t confine, delimit, disarray the grand design and anyway, no matter what they say that’s hard do do. Hitting the sinister bar right is right as long as the left hand knows what the right is stewing. Time to do some brewing. I’ve all the mead I need for now but 13 pounds of grain to gain a batch of Irish Red instead or six gallons of White Nights Stout about would suit my summer palate so weigh, mill, boil, lauder, ferment, rack, sit back enjoy. Nobody promised fair, nobody promised easy but by and by I just gotta sit back sigh and say, hey, it’s all good!