Tuesday, February 07, 2012


A surly hover.

Art from Rosencrantz.  Harold the
tribune.  Jesus of combinations.
Jesus of gaol.  Something to
get me excited, to look at
job options, Japanese or
Chinese, do something to
meet new people, simply
plan a trip.  Probably not
the best idea, like a condo.
How to approach REALIST.
A tic above any and all, falling
over myself doing it (ART).  The
ART the ART the ART.  What is it?
How is Bill?  All this New York School
stuff (How is Brainard?  How is Padgett?).
Keep delving seven-something years.  What
is it over our faces?  Death?  Being a writer?
Aware, written all over our reconcile, go home,
could come tomorrow.  And write nothing better,
this beautiful rainy day.  Very rainy (like Raney,
on my father’s mother’s side).  A very hard rain.