Terrier Bliss
this is how I feel about the book project * * * I WANT it! I can't stop looking at it. I study its shape and odor and size as though expecting it any moment to shift, change, vanish, explode. If flung, I will go after and get it on the first bounce. If hidden, I will sniff where last seen until it's revealed. If held, I will continue to stare up, my whole face quivering, my whole body poised to, to, to I focus on how I will chew it, how I will lick into its very essence and the directories of its pieces, the threads that tie it up to the rest of what is keeping me away right now. I will free the cloudy stuff inside it, the piece of its core that makes the sounds. I will fling the disassembled unity into the air in a new broader unity — like the big bang — and roll in all the stuff that flies around artfully scattered, array all around me, panting in utter joy that smells like triumph.