Or Not...

 Everyone is hurting, IT cannot be undone. Time is change.a light finger on the betting wheel is wise.

2014. This is the only time I got Bob Drunk enough to dance in public. 

Fall is here. Bob is gone, but he's everywhere, Paul's heirs demanded a death certificate...I don't even have one of my own. I think about them stubbing their toe badly, and laugh while I rise to grab a half-finished margarita that's been lukewarm for hours on a dresser where I fell asleep while finagling my new Marin county vote-by-mail ballot. I meet with a rep for the lawyers office tomorrow. Something helpful, I guess. All the tie in there world, and maybe enough money...

,,,and no one to show it to...anymore. The eternal trade. 

Just point me out of these clouds, if you could, 

There a certain blue velvet quality to what is happening. Almost espionage: I have to go through things to figure out what the heck is going on while other people undermine me to try and find out first. I love games. I hate contests, and this isn't the time to experiment.   

MY brain aches to sleep but can't. Somebody calls on a telephone I don't answer: 

asking me if I did enough...and I don't know if I didn't or not.