re-up the let-go

constantly. the cat jumps up on the thing and you lift the cat down from the thing; the cat's then back.  and so, i thought i could save my father, by calling the museum of broken peoples, but they don't do pick ups, and you can't force someone to donate. 

other thoughts abound:  the goodness of the girls, good job, how many paw prints everywhere.  sand on the palms, finding your way walking on hands.vcccssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD

that was the cat, back up on the thing.

what is the plainest way to say it:

i have to let go of my dad's life.  if he's losing it, it's his, it's all of ours, to lose. 

and then any newnesses:

let go of wanting specifics.  guiding principles seem OK but can't hold onto anyone's life, actually, but my own.

how am i still seventeen walking across the grass

the table's round as the moon.

today find the music