Actually, I can now see how there’s
something really quite terrific about
being gagged like this.
Gagged?
Bound? Whatever—a
triple-layer
of masking tape around my head
and over my mouth (tightly).
It feels
liberating. Like a
big relief.
A few folks pop on to check us out.
On occasion.
OK, long break while I do other things.
Unbound. Like chat
with Jeannette
about the weekend, the divine weekend,
and become frustrated with formatting.
And how to ‘properly’ note publications.
The whine of somebody on this side of
our apartment building (this
side?—by
which I suppose I mean that it sounds
very nearby) taking a shower leads to
a desire for a shower.
The sound of
dishes being put away (also very
nearby) has me up
and desirous
to clean something.
In the end it must really be worth-
while. The relief of
not hearing
my voice for a few minutes.
But isn’t too much of a good thing
not so very good after all?
