It is the bicentennial
and we are making
a quilt with our
grandmothers.
It was Mrs.
Wells’ (our
3rd grade
teacher’s)
idea.
Fred
is leaving
for NYC in
two weeks
(years before
we find ourselves
Skyping about our
various ‘projects’).
Whether or not
it’s important,
memory (or
something)
is exhumed.
We call it
a job or we
call it drinking
water.
After reading
half of the issue
aloud to Otto
he says “I like
sex and repetition.
Sex and repetition.”
It is 10:42 in the morning.
