Underneath this notebook
I am living. I am living
underneath this notebook.
I’m writing whatever it is
I can because it would be
difficult to write this
past soggy week.
Make a list. I am broke.
The cabbie who kept
attempting to drop me
off in the middle of
nowhere. This past
week. Except for
the feeling that
I should be doing
something. The
feeling that I am
not doing anything.
The feeling I’m
not having. A
house-
warming. A
do nothing day.
This feeling.
