I hope you are well. Take care.

 This is let me take a minute let me take a break
This is how we or do we take a break or can we 
Are you sure we can or this is how we do or are 
Are are are are are you are you are you are you
Over

Take a break

Dirty River

Rivers wash away
Carrying our shit
To who knows where
But who knows, knows
Where

There must have been
Some first human, bedecked
In naked who realized this
As he watched his shit 
Float

This was supposed to be
Pretty. This was supposed
To make me think of green
And leafy things, so strong
Crisp

Snapping against our legs
As we break the grass before
Us working so hard to reach
The shore where we can 
Shit

Signifying nothing's Cabinet of Curiosities

I have an old lap top that I wasn't using, so I installed Linux on it, to revisit my fascination with computers, writing, and photography (among other things).  You can also find a live webcam, which calls back to the early days when I engaged in such foolishness.  All the devices on my home network at all named after birds, so here is in all its curious glory:  Signifying nothing's Cabinet of Curiosities (https://chickadee.signifyingnothing.us).

Never Realized Movie Plots #3 (Written While Driving Too Fast on the Freeway): RUNAWAY ROBOT

Scene opens on ROBOT running
Away, across a grey, meteor-pitted
Landscape

It is Ganymede, so there are flashes
Of green and blue and red in the grey
Ash

But mostly it is grey which makes it
Difficult to perceive ROBOT who is
Running

Away cross the screen, over the jagged
Pitted surface of a desolate moon of
Jupiter

The planet looms high in the black inky
Sky--washed out and pale since this was the
Fifities

But actually probably more accurate than
Our oversaturated present, with its wandering
Robots

Who are, technically, also running away
Without legs, of course, but with outlandish
Speed

ROBOT is running away from something
He may not even remember, since his memory
 Banks

Are full of pain and suffering of some kind
Inflicted on him on Ganymede by those who
Love

But ultimately hate him.  So he runs; he runs
And he is most assuredly crafted in metal to be
Male

He runs, this ROBOT with pencil thin legs
Radio head with yellow blinking light and
Antennae

And the scene fades as he runs, now a tiny
Glistering speck of metal against a vast, vast
Grey

Never Realized Movie Plots #2 (Imagined to be written on a grocery story receipt)

It is 1975
A solo dog runs across
Scene

Panning back 
The camera reveals
Wreckage

Two cars have
Collided, 70's
Cars

Big boxy beasts
With lots of plastic
Wood

And chrome, plastic
Chrome for miles and
Miles

Slumped over the
Wheel of one is Lucille
Ball

She was drunk, of course
Having just Tonight
Showed

In the day, because day
Filming and day
Drinking

And you would go to
A doctor and be offered
Scotch

The other driver is
Groucho escaping his
Abuser

70's TV comedy
Ensues with biopic
Pathos

Never Realized Movie Plots #1 (Written on grocery store receipts)

For some reason
Main Character
Has to make a
Sudden escape
In a self-propelled
Parade float

Papier-mâché
Bursting into 
Butterflies of 
Wafting paper
(Replete with 
Accent marks)
Careening this
Way and That

Tissue paper
Streaming like
Toilet paper
Caught on your
Heal

I, Robot

I hover over my new vacuum
Robot, not to monitor their duty
To the job, but out of sheer joy
And

Amazement. Yes, I am that kid
Still who sincerely believed that
A gift of walkie-talkies was the
Absolute best best best and I love
You forever, oh wow oh wow oh
I

The robot comes in a plain brown
Box, like porno mags used to be
Delivered. Uncle Ken had Playboy
Sent to his house and had a TransAm
Aunt Wanda loved him and loved that
TransAm

Now that's where it gets complicated
This salacious appeal to my boyish
Desires that were entirely sexual but
Had nothing to do with sex as anyone
Might define it. Desire. Desire? Is it 
Understandable?

No, so I hover over this robot, watching
How they negotiate this wild mountain
Of rug, this leg of lamp, this chair that
Keeps moving because I keep moving
It

And I am in sheer ecstasy. Such a
Simple and wonderful thing. The 
Code runs through my mind.
Decision trees play out in simple
Desire

Desire to clean, desire to map--desire
To know.  I hover over my little round
Friend because I have to.  That's me
Down there.  Seeking the map.  Seeking
The spots to suck up the detritus of a
Decade