Wordplay is done? There are no more words in the sky? Looking over early
wordlings and not much interested in them. The products of a person I am
no longer. Not sure what it all means or what it's all worth.

Always what it means. Nothing! It has no use. Images to pause on. The
pause that refreshes. Bright violet images to electrocute a mind gone
soft & solid like old poop. Jolt of memory of the wonder, terror and
reality of childhood towers. Something to prickle the unknown senses.
Skeins of unknown sensor nets. The memory of thunder.

No more words in the sky. No mere worlds in the sky. A world in a potato.
Potato-skin world swirling in a bottomless margarita glass on a Friday at
TGI Fridays. Weekend sense derangement.