PROFILE

I am blue space goddess. Spaced out, burnt out, springing from the mud between your toes. Leaning this way and that, I yearn for more. More, more, more. My fevered imagination yields a state of high anxiety. I laugh at kangaroos in closets and all sorts of things. I am a jester and a fool and a hermit. I talk too little, too much. I celebrate my atypical neurology because I love and honor my life. I have not found Peace because I don't know that she has been lost. Buried perhaps underneath a myriad of unholy wars; ah but that is a story for another day.

from the profile of blue space goddess

MANIFESTO # 36

Questions! Questions! said the therapist
who had a kangaroo stashed in her closet.
You gotta know how to ask questions.
I looked at her. She was an alien.
She came from Schenectady! And I,
I was the zoo keeper.

Questions! Questions! said the therapist
and the kangaroo bounced madly in her closet.
You gotta know how to ask those questions.
I looked at her again. What I saw was no
better. I was still the keeper of pain.
I was still the zoo keeper.

Questions! Questions! said the therapist
as the kangaroo smashed out of her closet.
You gotta know when to ask those probing questions.
Who is the kangaroo? I demanded. And why
is he here? I left then, laughing maniacally.
I was no longer the zoo keeper.

blue space goddess says: lets' all write bad poetry shall we? I see Hop wrote one too. Snarking can be fun, regardless of "what side" the snarker is on.

snark