Had nightmares all night long, but at least it was r.e.m. sleep.

What happened to the poems, songs and stories I used to dream? Produce, fucker.

Woke coated with sweat, but that maybe due also to the two comforters I tried to sleep with last night. I like to be snug, and snuggle. I should get a snugglebunny, just to cut the heating bill.

I just had mental image flash. I pictured a manatee, just newly evloved into the world, not yet selected to migrate to warm waters as the seas change seasons and temperatures. The sun goes down. The water grows cold. The manatee swims north, bewildered. Nature selects those that swim against the currents, towards the warmth. The cold blue-green ocean surrounds the manatee, alone, as the sun goes down. The chill spreads as the light fades. Every inch of the manatee is covered by coolness. By cold. An ache creeps up the manatee's spine, as the slow chill thickens. Confused. Lost.

I could make it into a kids book. "And then the sad little manatee found a volcanic heating vent. And the manatee was warmed. Oh happy little manatee!"

But that's not the truth.

�

I have a full weekend on the dockett. My friends' band plays downtown tonight. Gonna' try to ice skate Sat. morning. They want me to play hockey. We'll see. Sat. evening is jam and record time. Time to cut another album.

Sunday is sunday. Sunday drive. Relaxation. Phone-calls, and laundry. Maybe I'll go up to Dillon Lake and smoke pot in the bright afternoon. Do some writing.

I want to hacky-sack sometime, too. Before the weather breaks bad.

It'll make me think of spring.