I am trying to imagine (so as to enact)
a feasible means of nourishment. Imag
ination can be more than fantasy,
can it not? I am no different. This just
happens—I let it go.
Today’s flower, the lily. A pesky cold,
the business cold. Around my table—
horrible boring talk about violence.
Violence to papers and sexism. Five
hundred years of Western civilization,
and what’s better to discuss?
Every cloud a pompous biography.
Every bruise a hospital system.
