1 out of 9
During the winter of my discontented heat pump.
Somewhere in November 
Waking this morning I do not remember my dream of night time the sound of the heat pump having noised off every half hour or so + the paying of the dreaded utility bill came into my rolling condensed mind along with vivid memories of an iron maiden thump thump thumping with bruised tar laden lungs distorting the breath sound triggering the dreaded  — oh my — this conditioning we have of a sound that will plummet whatever hope of leveling the playing field for the day + as it is barely cold enough outside to leave a watery frost on the inside of the windows that I have quilted over dark for the rest of the wintery part of the year yet still needing to plant a bit of spring when there is a break to 41 degrees on Saturday


  1. heat pumps don't work for shit up here when it's -40 f. Spring is a lovely thought

  2. Ha! Always the way. They lie in wait until it's most inconvenient.