and the hills are on fire again. it has
already been a week of wasting time.
I think how oily the salad. my
heart is racing. my heart is not saying much.
I think, instead,
they sold American State Bank!
random. Sunday repeats itself.
oh he’s just wonderful, just perfect.
the building’s on fire.
movies like I Guess You Have the
Wrong Number open Friday when we
begin evaluating straight men. this one is too
lumpy. this one is too awkward.
this one is too too. the shorthaired brunette who
I think is a pediatrician.
much to recount as I flip through the
pages, bear in mind the rustic
fireplace in front of which
we made videotapes. and then there is the war,
and its belt-lipped busboy’s buildings on fire.
