Tuesday inside

It’s cold in the office and I guess I probably have dozens of more important things to be doing, but my inbox is filled with unread Writer’s Almanac entries and the one from today burns sinewy words into my braincan leaving sleepy room for unresolved plots and wordspun passages of time like model trains on a table or plates of spaghetti and asparagus. (Tastes like science experiments or genetic mutations.) And hot rods and supermodels and teflon-slickwet sidewalks, and all the while my slinky consciousness undulating or rolling down the stairs or just sitting still in a spiral that is near impossible to follow to any conclusion because it just keeps on like a mobius strip or simple circle lacking any plan or finishing touch.

Disturbing pig fact for the day: Last night I read that dripping male pig saliva on a female pig in heat will completely immobilize the female.