Divining Rod

Image that struck me at the Wooden Monkey tonight, an eerily lonely week as you wait for the credit cards to arrive by mail.  The randomness/coincidence factors of old, what instruments we put our trust in to will out what forms part of our one solitary life.  Amidst all the potential music and poetry and people.  All the cities and landscapes and offices.  Happenstance.  And so if the twitching of a foreign object can be said to lead toward an outcome, why not infuse it with meaning, and if it has some actual merit given intuition’s powerful abilities, then all the better.

I need angles to write and I have not found them above my waffling and lethargy, amidst my curiosity and sloth.  Keep refreshing until you tire, Biden wins, and you can begin.