83: Life with Mr Juice came up short — charm 
-ing & familiar — unfair tenderness in a paper sack.  
Hostess Wheel Clacker, bike spinner & fake license & plate.  
A poet’s debt. I was mute then. 
I found (or again I was speaking in silence)  
your eyes are nagging me for more .. admit you miss modern poetry.  
You miss the excess & first drag.  
 
Have you read, praise & worth get their daily  
 

Calories drinking coffee & smoking — sleeping to excess —   
 

Surplanted, Juice never saw it coming & I never wept again.  
Therefore I’m barren, mute now, painting dumb.