—Jack Spicer
wake up it’s
time for a
day! when
the blips on
your calendar
seem incon
sequential
(out of se
quence) i
have an i
dea (let’s
put on a
show!). the
dream of
television.
months of
mouthing
the name
of a novel
(i’ve never
read, by mi
lan kundera) i
dea can’t
unbreak the
bank that isn’t
even there (and
you can bank
on that!). a
thousand ex
clamation
points
borne of
robert
ludlum’s
tundra can’t
quash a sing
le perfectly
good feeling.
at a time like
this (a knuck
le sandwich —
thud!), an hour
is a couple
dozen days
that are laid
open like
a can of
freshly
sanded
tuna.
