Back in inaction

I’ve been quiet, Mainly because I’ve been in TO working crazy hours in a room they call the “War Room”. With that name, you know it’s going to be crazy. However, A long flight, and I’m back home in Vancouver.

I’m sure I’ve got reams of emails and voicemails waiting, and I’ll get to them, one by one. But in the meantime I’ll share a drunk time poem.

Words flow like Leffe
Sweet with a cinnamon taste
Hints of Valentines
Blurred by consumption
One line dulls the heart
One more the mind
Verse after verse the
Words mix and blur
Creating only your desires
My Key and strokes are
Not my own
Until the day after
A trail of garments
And a naked stranger
Under your arm.