my compost piles favor stinging nettle
i’m thinking of starving myself to death
but lack the initiative . . .
i headed south
hit the 911 truth group
then back up to the hollow with a new filly . . .
grandchildren . . .
aahg! she gives me
till the end of the month to buy this place
friends have her a sociopath . . . no conscience or remorse . . .
(like the majority of americans)
my grandchildren need me
i’ve lost just about everything
decided to squat in my wall tent near my son & grands
yesterday i wondered about professional help
she lost her mother at birth
causes reactive attachment disorder
it manifests itself on me & my family
but i haven’t crashed yet
she tried to land a guy with an apartment in town
(to use his computer, phone, food)
he ran her off the next day
now she’s here on (her) farm with me
i keep hand mowing the nettle
pitchfork the dried around a tall pole
there’s something about constructing a haystack
the stuff is people hay
she made a great nettle quiche pie last nite
i see me teaching the skills i have
but more likely this fascist military occupied america will kill me
she said maybe she’ll be a plumber if teaching didn’t hit
i said next you’ll think of getting by with a flock of sheep & a rototiller . . .
i’ll still be circling the globe
and now i deal with personal loss trauma
i may shoe frisky (andy’s appaloosa)
& get out of auto-indoor-toxicity
the air inside is killing me/us
what a world
jim chojnacki & wendy shaffer