Small white chicken friends
—John Ashbery (this epigraph, as well as the title
of this poem, are from The Undefinable Journey)
“So? Did’ja get it?”
Apparently the same
concerns we have are
duplicated on the exact
other side of the planet.
Now’s a great time for
the exact other side of
the planet to be coy.
Don’cha think? Well,
I do. I wanted just
a quick one, but one
that nonetheless
spoke to somebody,
even if he or she
or they, I suppose
we can say now, are on
this side of the planet;
maybe even next door?
I’m on a deadline (job-
searching). Ditto and
Ditto may have just
landed one. Even though
it seems like I’ve taken
to simply speaking in
code, that isn’t precisely
the case. It’s my head.
Just trying to get some-
thing out. Probably
just about anything.
Hi. I’m at my new desk
(thanks, Diane!) in my
new room (about which
there’s not enough time
to go into any “thanks”).
Needless to say I’m alive
as I write this. But is it
really needless to say?
There are a few things
in this world that are
easy to do quickly. I’m
speaking for myself and
in a general sense. Like
the good general who
may or may not have a
job now, about which I
therefore may or may
not be celebrating. This
all seems, on the surface,
fairly needless to say. But,
lookee here. I went and said
all of it. Every single bit.
