A bomb hit it. That’s

August 15, 2002

A bomb hit it. That’s what my house looks like. I just pretend we’re renovating. Can’t keep up. Its a Rockford Files episode where Angel says, “oh my God Jim what have they done to your place!” The goons from the bad guy syndicate were by to look for some secret files. I guess I am an honourary private dick. Messes are creative manifestations but they come with a catch 22. You can’t think when it gets too messy because you’re thinking about how you’re ever going to clean it up. You get distracted by the stray magazine or computer cable. The dishes beckon you to get them back to eating condition. You can’t find anything you desperately need. My keys. Where the hell are my keys? I’m late. Good luck tardy boy. How did we get all this stuff? How did it fit in here? Clowns emerge from the Volkswagen Beetle. Ten rabbits from one hat. Its magic. How did the bomb go off without bringing down the walls?