small hits of orange

certain to stumble thru another day i sit here guarded by noah the cat perched upon my right shoulder making sure that i don't dot every i and cross each t so far when writing becomes the reading and the reading becomes a life because tonight when i fall asleep i am unable to distinguish between a text i've previously written and composing a text to read when i wake again as this turns like a run-on sentence while i practice dutifully for another day and night erasing line by line THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF SPIDERMAN and hope that when i toss it sticks to the wall