For Andrea's Writing To Me

"For Andrea's Writing To Me"

I am not my number one fan.

As a matter of fact I am last on my list.

I mean I find it impossible to live with.

To tolerate me takes patience and strength I don't possess.

I read the newspapers, listen to the news, and pick up on living dreams experiences.

You do me the favor of writing this mixed up garbage, which is in my mind, for me.

I throw up and out my puke and you turn it into something which is tasteful.

Nonsense to sense.

You the intricate modern day computer, and me, a player piano of long ago.

The first attempts at corrected grammar on my part.

Your correction of that first and last pathetic venture.

You are always an adventure to difficult for me to understand.

Beyond all my comprehension.

Not to mention, you are a true mother of invention.

Me the stupid, clever, magical piano player.

You, the shrewd genius who like your apple computer has all the piano's notes in stored memory.

You are a woman I care for more than my poor life.

My life is like a fopaux, 

An error in my parent's judgement.

Your life, unlike mine, has a meaningful purpose.

I love you Andy.

Jon Billet 10.29.2014