This year my last grandparent died. Groundmother. Grand Ma.
Grandma Hazel died this year. Look up helicopter.
This year’s glassy dishes. This is a second full thought.
This my second full year in Boston copy. I haven’t.
Haven’t you wanted to be famous? Simple that fame.
What if everything we did is geared toward fame?
I just know it is a graceless joke did we just overlap? Did
we overlap my calendar? GRACEFREAK. I know I am
not a words fountain stop concerning.
I am going back to school (almost pretending) and now
I am viewing now a sea-foam jade. I view browser log freezer-burn.
What was your first book of poetry goddess until now? Access? I have
only one poem and it is not going to show up until eleven.
Did we get cheese? Let’s copy this all down in manuscript.
He is not going to show up until eleven I just know it.
O last day of 1998—almost no depressions 2% to top it off
although a continuing overabundance of connections ST
of seeing my debt chirp. Stop churning this. It is the
year of the purple sun it is the year I see a blue sun
it is the year the fog is blooming I saw it until now
where it is no longer the year. Look up helicopter.
