ϟ   Friday night and it’s cold and my hair is short:

Here I sit, jamming to Billie Holiday “Gee, Baby, Ain’t I Good to You,” and writing letters of intents for so many jobs I’ve lost an eye for any of them. 

Do you, reader, want to know what I want? Truly? Deep down in my gut past this morning’s toast and the glimmering soul and that useless organ that pumps blood?

I want/wish/desire/crave/long/hope for/wish for something like one of those paintings I post; something grand and classical and overcome with emotion and divine purpose as the dragon swoops and the maiden faints and the fabric drapes.

I know, I’ll talk to a sphinx! Solve her riddle and annihilate the filth from Thebes; Take my Pegasus and my sword and my heart and chase the gods from the clouds and sleep at night knowing my place under the laurel tree.

Who wants money? Things? Stuff?

No, no, no. I want a story.

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Tagged:  gpoy,   Pegasus,   soul,   Greek Mythology,  

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