mmxxxiv

I’m reading while rolling my eyes,
thinking please, please, I’m not one of
THESE people, am I? So I put the book
down. Believing in evolution, I chant
inwardly (silently, or more as an echo
in my skull), I am going to remember
this place.

And then I wake up, wholly invigorated.
I clean the apartment a little, listening
to my new ‘mellow’ playlist. Then I
walk down to Sutter and Stockton,
but instead of coffee I order a
SuperGrass, or whatever it’s
called. Being very healthy,
or imagining such.

Then further down the hill
I realize that I’m not wearing
my running shoes. I’m going
anyway, I think, trekking
my way to the YMCA. A
morning steam is good there.
They’d just opened, so it was
quiet, and I could sit and
sweat longer than usual.

Then we meet up at the Ferry
Building where I look at cute
books and adorable tea sets
and you check out the
little birds (not real
birds) who magically
react with a chirp
whenever they ‘hear’
a noise.

Then we go outside (be
cause you want to), look
out at the bay, Treasure
Island, and a seal. To
wind down the morning
you suggest we go to
our place – the little
park that is Levi’s Plaza –
and gaze silently at the
burbling waterfalls there.

mmxxxiii

...nothing sexual but
the Declaration of Independence
placemat.
                                —Reed Bye

Am I the privileged? I must be,
having several opportunities to
overspend on things like dance
parties, mimosas, toys from the
toy store, juice from the corner
store, and lots of books of poetry.
Most of which I can purchase
online. Very easy, right?

I’m not sure how important
this topic is, nor how thoroughly
I have sullied it, nor whether I
have proven or disproven my
point, nor whether I need a
haircut before my meeting
tomorrow afternoon.
Could you perhaps
enlighten me?

I often think about 

how wonderful lust is. 

I talk about this wonder. 

In my mind, which is 

probably a pretty 

strange place,
if there is one thing
that has consistently
(persistently) all
owed me to
retain a portion
(at least a portion)
of my youth, it would
be this very wonder
(may it ever exist;
may it never 
desist!).

mmxxxii

Watching that movie was like
sitting ringside next to a three
hour wrestling match. I assume,
having never been to a wrestling
match. It doesn’t seem my sort of
thing, just to be clear. I keep watch-
ing movie trailers, much more than I
watch movies, imagining I am to be a
world-renowned movie trailer critic.
It could happen. But why let it,
having already thought it all
the way through?

mmxxxi

I am two months behind in posting.
I am eating up my retirement account.
I am wishing my nephew a happy
birthday.  Each day there is a
2.46% chance that it will be
the birthday of either a nephew
or a niece (not counting great
nephews or great nieces – is
that what you call them?).
I have turned our bed into
my office.  I spent all night
over a week ago going through
a two foot stack of papers and such,
sorting and appropriately filing the
papers and such while also drafting
a new ‘to do’ list.  After over a week,
all I have of the list is still just its
initial draft.  I feel that I may be
too close to tell if I’m obsessive
or neurotic and, if so, whether
either of these is a problem or not
(either in the grand scheme of things
or relatively speaking).  I am just
a little bit emotional this morning
for some reason.  But not bad.  I’ve
just had my biggest workweek, at
least in several years.  If not ever.
I’m going to try to remember this
place.  Anyway, rather than –
I have no idea what I was about
to write – I took a sip of the
strawberry lemonade and
it all went away.

mmxxx

Did you like the picture I sent you?
Do you appreciate how I’m using
your book to cover my crotch?
Do you like the multi-colored
underwear (mostly pastels)
that frame your book
in the picture that
I sent you?

mmxxix

Continue Björk

The incessant crinkling of a mostly empty
bag of potato chips. Rummaging through
luggage. These are noises I hear out in the
hallway. From here in the bedroom at
three in the afternoon. Reading the
biggest book in forever, The MIT Years.

Today I sit for a two-year evaluation.
My lover always has the higher score.
“We are in two different places,” I say,
and try to paint a picture of a map with
two figures: one scrappy with youth
and unsettled (blurry, or vibrating);

the other, plump yet vigilant, knowing
where he’s going (his hipster boots
shackled to the floor with a disco
ball overhead, symbolizing a slight
dizziness). One of us has been
watching a nephew grow up

on Facebook, amazed at how
childhood becomes awkward
youth. The other keeps at
least one foot on a ladder,
he’s heading up to the roof
now. Hanging on to a star.

mmxxviii

“Who’s That Flirtin’ with the Coach?”

     It’s the potential I’m in love with
     when I sleep with someone new.
                                    —Alex Dimitrov

I never had a thing for professors, teachers
or coaches. Starting when I was about
seven, I always brought along a few books
to read. Including, now that I just sit here
waiting (I know this part already), My
Hand Keeps Cramping Up and I Want
to Hug the Brick Sidewalk on Market.

It’s rainy with a few low-flying airplanes.
I love this city. Especially its mornings.
Especially when cool and crisp. Especially
when I take advantage of the entire page.
It is well worth the sixteen dollars and
fifteen cents. I presume that’s the most
I’ve ever spent on one, but I’ll keep you
posted. Feeling lost

I unholster my phone. Remember un-
holstering phones? I think I’ll start
with poker first. I say “poker” – just
a little bit louder than a whisper. Then
maybe a couple of rounds of bingo.
I just got into a dumb tizz, so am trying
to calm down. This is the way it always
works with me. I begin to know these

things. I am beginning to know things.
Just as soon as I remember something,
I’ve forgotten it again. It’s the morning
of a new day, as if the dawn of a new
era. That picture of you yawning with
my family. The you. The family. It’s
always the same thing. Easy off. Easy 

on. Easy in. Easy out.

mmxxvii

Well, here’s the start of a new saga.

     It was a bright day.
     The sun forgave no one.
                                        —Alex Dimitrov

To recap, I’m sitting in the
Jury Summons Room (#007)
imagining James Bond as a
juror.

My heart to the heartthrob
whose life left Vancouver
and all of the rest of us
cold.

Where was I 6:00-8:15am
this morning? Making sure
everything got off to an ok
start; without a hitch.

And last night around
10:45-11:45pm?

Watching an animated cartoon.
Remembering walking home
in the mist.

See, I don’t like being heartless.
I’m not good at it, I quit.
                                          —Alex Dimitrov

R.I.P. Cory Monteith

mmxxvi

I dress to express a hoped for solution.
                              —Mei-mei Berssenbrugge

Funny, we had a decent conversation up until
that point. Did I mention having to play care-
taker on Tuesday evening? Too bad he doesn’t
remember any of it.

He was so cute this morning, though.

Financial District --> Shopping District

          --> Hood --> Here

I loved the walk. Then suddenly it dawned
on me that I’d like to have a job in arts
administration.

If I’m looking to the future there’s a finite
amount of time. But he’s a student. He
wasn’t excited to hear from me at all;
seemed glum or just sloppy. I mean
sleepy. I told him that his flat cap
induces melancholy. “It’s blue,” I said, “and now, so are we.”

mmxxv

I often pee sometimes.
                                 —John Ashbery

He was taking the train from New York City
to Boston and reading a gay sex novel. So
now he talks as subversively as he is capable.
As capable as he is subversive. We all know
who canonizes this guy. Or is obviously his
reincarnation.

So here we are. It is the biggest day of our
time. Today’s the day. So I take my anti-
histamine and make sure everything is
appropriate, getting frustrated at all
the right moments, pretending to
take a nap and getting up in 

the morning in time to get 

to the office by 7:00am.

I’ll get up whenever they let me loose.
I mean way more than usual. Of course
my cellphone is a blueberry and my
breakfast is an iPad. It’s a new era,
after all.

He got completely out of sorts
after just a few drinks. I mean
way more than usual.

mmxxiv

                            When you turned I thought
you’ve got to stop me, I’m out of control
but mature, so every step I take
counts.
                                                  —John Ashbery

I don’t know what all I have on me
nor why.  By that same token, I have
no idea which pages I should rip out,
and which I should matte, frame
and hang on the wall.  Or I’m guessing.

Yes, in case you were unable to guess,
it’s election day again.  Tonight, I plan
to read forever to the man I married
while he paints his homework.  Which
amounts to somewhere near seventeen

sonnets, total.  I call the whole thing
Ambition.  Meanwhile, I continue
pasting old photographs of myself
into various collected works which
I find on the shelves of the university
library.  Particularly the older ones
that look practically new.

mmxxiii

Some Notes from a Conversation

Negative
Negative

mmxxii

I Broke Even in Barcelona

     See Wife Casually Hire Hit-Man
                                                 —CNN.com

I’m not sure where I’m going with this.  I am such a
shambles.  Which is the opposite of a phenom.  Even

Squiddly Diddly thinks so.
This week I was able to bob for apples without

drowning.  It used to be so easy to discover new things
to celebrate.  From this perspective antiquity doesn’t

look so hot.  Now I think I’m happiest when looking
around for something that’s just a little bit uncomfortable.

Like grapefruit juice for lunch in a glass that I’m not
quite sure has been washed since its last use.  But

does this make me a happy person?  The opposite
could also be true.  As I lie sleeping each night I

can’t get the lyrics of “Dirty Laundry” out of my
head; of Don Henley’s tragicomic/nostalgic/not-

yet-dead voice echoing and re-echoing: Kick ’em
when they’re up!  Kick ’em when they’re down!

Kick ’em when they’re up!
Kick ’em all around!

mmxxi

Act Natural

     For an addict you have an incredible amount of discipline.
                                                                 —overheard

Where to begin? Well, I’m too young for that.
But it seems to be working. Or you tell me.

I’m going to the Firefly Meadow to take my
mind off things. I am always coming up with

new and exciting ways to do that. This time
the Firefly Meadow doesn’t want to let me in,

so I arrange for a shave and a shower at the
Crew Cut. Is this a dream? It’s pretty dreamy.

Unfortunately, I don’t wake up. So I try to
imagine the reality of the situation. This

square goes here. This tetrahedron lives
over there. Or is it the other way around?

Life in a fishbowl is pretty boring. You
can’t drink the water. Electricity is a

slippery figment. Some fish folk are
eager to let you in. Others are distant,

have several locks and few holes. I
mean souls. All’s hollow in the bowl

’til Friday. That’s when it happens. 

The something that I can’t remember.

mmxx

Falling Prey to Negativity: The Scourge of the Curse of Having a Heart

You are so going
to figure out all
of my dirty tricks
before this is all
said and done,
aren’t you?

Whoops.

It’s funny.
That didn’t
taste so bitter.

I’m not coming
undone.  This is
just my magic
wand.  And
don’t worry,
it’s not working.

Yesterday, you
took a picture of
a streetlamp in
broad daylight.

And somehow
my aching neck
talks my aching
back out of its
misery.

And somehow
my aching back
put my aching
neck out of its
misery.

mmxix

Discontinuity becomes continuity; the memory sort of glitters as it flows, and
sleep flows.
                                                                       —Mei-mei Berssenbrugge


I think people look at tiny patches of their face and try to fix everything – they’ve
lost the plot.
                                                                                 —Gwyneth Paltrow


The cure for love is more love
                                                                    —Julian Talamentez Brolaski


Lead by example.

mmxviii

Um, ok, too.

“I’m not
sleeping,
I’m just
resting my eyes”

has come to

“I didn’t roll
my eyes, I
just opened
them widely.”

Okay. Fine.

So today I
will work
on for.  To
morrow against.

mmxvii

Um, ok.

With blackberry fruitiness
and a chocolaty mouth-
feel, he whispered “Please
sit, so that I can give you

blow job.”  It was a demand.
Del Cross, tender man massage.
Del Cross, you are receiving
this email because you have

subscribed to full or trial
access to one of our paysites
on Thursday, June 13th.
MassageBait – Gay Guys

Massaging Straight Men
For Sex.  MassageBait
offers straight men a
great way to explore

their sexuality.  I
guess I guess I
guess.  Or I’m
guessing.  But

I’m not voting.
I wouldn’t know
what I was voting
for or against.

mmxvi½

Jphega s===== equals John Asheberry

This is never to be spoken again.
This is hush hush.

Hu-u-u-u-ush.

mmxvi

It was a day like any other, torn from the register.
                                           —Jphja s=====

But what I have here is.  Oh well.  The fan.  I’d
say I want a mint julep with that.  And I will.
Say it, that is.  I say a lot of things.  Especially
on days like today.  I

wake up, it’s a new generation.  Meaning
everyone in this generation took everyone
in that generation soooo seriously.
Which is 2 true.

mmxv

Wendy Pepper Is An Apple Cider

This was just so retro,
and therefore and also,
this was just so meta:
enfolding, as it always does, over
(and seeping into) the marginal.
It was the new way of writing
(or something to that effect)
and no one was going to stop her now
that it had exploded so...
thusly.....
Endward and forever, thought Edward.
Until the archeologists
dust off their fans,
each and all awaiting agape and akimbo,
at outposts numbered 1, 2, 3, &c.,
and various other locations
within the boundaries
of the suspects:
Leaking Desert #8, Leaking Desert #27, Leaking Desert #&c.

mmxiv

                             Otherwise we’d only have
looking forward to look forward to.
                                                  —John Ashbery

In 2014, I’m in a really nice, mellow mood
watching the dogwalkers on Russian Hill
and reflecting on my doctor’s meeting,
his comment – But you seem to be man-
aging it so well! – and realizing, with
some joy, that he could have been
referring to anything.

I walk in the rain with Otto this morning,
his big umbrella that used to be mine, but
today we share it – over both of us.

How long have I lived in this singular spot?  Be-
sides home, in Hometown, which was
sixteen odd years.  Curran and I live
on O’Farrell Street, across from the
Kaiser Hospital emergency room entrance;
and this for nearly two whole years.
So that must be the new record.

mmxiii

It Has Been Just the Craziest Time!

He sort of folded over when he said
it, his big grin disappearing into the
fold.  When he came to, but only
for a moment, he slurred “Recovery
is going to be so much fun!  I’m
making an art project out of it!”

mmxii

It’s Been Too Long

Where to begin?  I had to throw the
saucepan away.  Overboiling.

The new routines are working okay.
But I really need to start getting myself

somewhere else.  My list gets check-
marks, like, tons.  But who rocks

my world now?  There was one long
body, the other day, people like

Anne Waldman.  I was trying to
remember backhanded compliment

and all I could remember was hand.
We went to bed all alone last night

and it was so pleasant.  Nobody to 

tackle.  Nothing to do but sleep.

mmxi

The people who know me
know that I have clicked
fourteen times on this link.
To click a link is not caca
phony.  It is more like a
clang.  The clang of click
ing a link.

At breakfast I ate our
host’s link sausages.
Each and all, they
were quite delicious.

mmx

The Look of Love Is in Your Eyes

I dropped four eggs on the floor.
It was a new record.  And trust me,

I totally get why nobody has the
time to wait for me to finish a

sentence.  My generation is
dying, so there isn’t any time.

Also, time is money.
I have never prepared

bacon like this.  It’s
the kind that comes

in a square package.
In lots of (at least

seemingly) un
structured chunks.

mmix

Fear In Public

Let’s all get well soon,
okay?  I don’t think
anyone wrote that.
I mean I don’t even
think.  I mean.  (Sorry.)

I am pretty sure that
some of the things
that I type in this
box make my
aunt’s blood
pressure sky
rocket.

The pigeons
on the roof
are bathing.

The pigeons
on the roof
are sunbathing.

Maybe it’s just
me.  But one
can never be
too sure of

anything.

mmviii

Ryan has a tendency to get distracted when he smokes.

Decorate the boots at the end of this sentence.

mmvii

Liar, Liar, Pants on Fire!

do u feel bad when the
truth hurts?  things get
tangled up a lot.  science
is sometimes as subjective

as the next guy.  summed
up, all of the lines in his
face equals the master
template of i am happy

and i feel sheer, even
giddy joy as he pumps his
long-time buddy’s
chest with an ice pick

over and over and
over and over and
over and over while
encamped at the base

of mauna loa.
forensic anthro
pology is the
study of the
lines in my
face.  in
summary,

who appears
in the souvenir
photograph
when every
thing else
has been
removed?

mmvi

and now for something...

i’m so sorry.  i’m so sorry.
i’m so sorry.  i’m so sorry.

i’m so sorry that it is imp-
ossible for me NOT to

apologize to you.  i’m so
headache headache

throw-up throw-up
bruise and scratch

and protection
from a broken

leg-bone head-bone
wrist-bone heart-bone

eye-bone ear-bone
bright white lights

of the city and i am
so so sorry.  good

bye alpha bravo
charlie i’m so

very sorry.  good
bye alpha.  good

bye bravo.  good
bye goodbye charlie.

goodbye
hawaiian airlines.

mmv

mmiv

yeh,
striving for a
stress-free
existence
is
pretty much
the goal.

mmiii

SPOOKY

sorry for yelling.  oh no.
did you really mean to ask
what is your daily word
count?  i should share
where i got that?  you
threw a party and only
one person showed up?
oh no.  i mean.  you
threw a party and
one person came.
woohoo!!??
or you just
threw up
?

mmii

I now remember who rocked my world in there.
It was your wonderful smile.  I’m not sure what
to do about that, though.

Besides, here in the box, the new routines are
at work; are probably working.  Let me pick up a
book to demonstrate (I show you).

I think my thumbs up.  The uses of the word molly.
She was my great-grandmother andshe  taught me
how to play dominoes and Wa-Hoo.

mmi

It Was Worth a Try (That Did Not Succeed)

What I’m trying to say here is that we can
easily talk about what we’re doing –

within what we’re doing.
Maybe some of us not so easily.

The new routines. While here.  Finished.
The same day?  Hello.  And I must.

Where we live.  Because of this morning’s
work gig.  Gym in forever.  Went home

yesterday, 5:30pm.  Take the day off
again.  Today I will concentrate.

Hello, mermaids are real!  I saw them on
Animal Planet.

mm

the music was boring and insightful
                                          —Joshua Beckman

Meaning takes on many different forms.  Like meaning-
less.  And meaninglessness.  Among other variants.  Let’s
say, for example, that I am two thousand years old and
am experiencing an anniversary of sorts.  To keep it from
being dull, I walk to my fellow anniversarent’s office.  It
gets very complicated, so I won’t go into that.  Let’s just
use the word awkward.

Breathe in, eventually.  Sorry.

Saturday went kind of fast.  We had a reading with a
very nice voice.  There was a good presence.  Then
we messed around with our iPods, creating playing
lists, etc.  Then we stayed the night at a birthday
party.  We got the celebutante a princess purse
(since it was a princess party) filled with
tickets to the circus.

I just got off the phone.  I don’t think he liked his
present.

We all slept a bit on the floor, in sleeping
bags that were just purchased for the occasion.
And then, Sunday morning, we all walked home
in the mist, stopping three times along the way:
first, at Starbucks, of course; then, to watch
Prince Charles’ entourage head for the top of
Nob Hill (he and Camilla are in town,
apparently staying at the Four Seasons);
and lastly, to check out a tiny half a million
dollar condo across the street from where
we live,

which is a peach of a place, much cheaper
than a half a million dollars.  Later we had
dim sum at Lychee Garden, walked around
North Beach, North Point, Polk Street,
and watched Naruto episodes once home. 

We had a lovely dinner (home cooked!)
and both went to bed early for work.

mcmxcix

I’m Your Hero

Maybe I should try a
French movie from the
1950s.  That’s all I really
know.

Last night.  Drinks at
Kimo’s with Kim.
Watching a hustler
get arrested.  Or
handcuffed.  He
said he was being
‘checked out’ ....

I walked to work
this morning
(arrived at
5:15am), the
first person at
Starbucks!  A
lovely walk
that went
without a
hitch.

Prince is
crying
ever since
the new
millennium
started.  His
weekends
anymore are
a blur (not
purple).

mcmxcviii

I spent a lot of time reading
in Union Square this week.
Coffee keeps coming up.
It dawns on me now
that dancing grumpily
(grumpy-dancing) is
such a waste of time.

In November, I am
so very tired I just
want to lie down
somewhere.  I
put in fifty or
so hours every
week, about which 

I am constantly either
complaining or

bragging.

It dawns on me now
that this is a complete
waste of time.

Apparently, I was
once performing a
series of what I called
Wicked Sonnets.  That’s
what’s been keeping me
super busy.  Plus the
year-end reviews
next week.

I had a turkey burger
for lunch.

mcmxcvii

In 1997, I went to the doctor,

in pain from crying for weeks,

huddled down at the end of my

very long hallway.  It was the

third floor of a lovely Edwardian

apartment building in the historic

Old West End in Toledo, Ohio,

mcmxcvi

Details emerge forever
           —Lyn Hejinian

Keeping it fresh. I got a gmail
account. I’m trying to use it.
It’s nice out. I think I’ll go out
and read.

Halloween: It’s a beautiful day
to be in love with a Grammy-
nominated rock star. Otto
wants to play dress-up
tonight.

Eight years ago I used as
inspiration the titles of a
set of Gamma Go post-
cards. And then I went
to get coffee.

On Saturday night (isn’t
it always on Saturday
night?)...on Saturday
night after Grubsteak
a monumental reading
by Landis Everson
who is so very
bravo.

Maybe it isn’t
me who’s in
love with a
Grammy-
nominated
pop star (rock star?).

Then some wonderful
stories by someone
who died at age 31.

Today is Dragon Friday
(so I suppose that it’s
not always Saturday
night). Daylight
Savings Time
ended over the
weekend and
the afternoon
is likely to
go on forever.

mcmxcv

     the air, heavy with failure
                    —Alice Notley

A patsy repeats the past.
That’s all there is to it.

     Run, Bunny-Money, shouts Piggy-Jiggy
     Run, Sheepy-Sleepy, weeps Goaty-Throaty
                                        —Lyn Hejinian

mcmxciv

All the Goofballs Meander Eastwood

“This movie is not making any sense.”
                    “Then take off your glasses.”

                           It’s not in 3-D.

mcmxciii

This Tactic Is Useless

“She doesn’t seem to have any flies”
(I’m misreading Medusa). “But it’s
your time, now.”

What about my time?

I hold up eight fingers and two
thumbs (opposable!) in defense.

“I have no interest in your thoughts
on any subject” (Alice Notley,
except she finishes with

“; though one sometimes
listens to pass the time.”)

Why do we keep these?
Mere tokens of meditation.
Like aspirin in the morning
(4 Advil at a time) and
how they accumulate.

“My bookshelf is my
morning,” Medusa’s
mouth moves as if to
say. “My morning.”

All the goofballs in
San Francisco (all
the fogballs) rise
and meander
eastward.

mcmxcii

What is the point
of this tactic? is
not exactly what
I meant to say.

mcmxci

A Milkshake Made of Gold

Okay, I’m ready now.  I just
need to know where I’m going.

I appreciate your concerns
regarding your visit.  Please

be assured that I had much
more to show you.  That’s

when I went ahead and
posted all of the ones

that I was embarrassed
about.  It actually felt

pretty good.  Until it
hit me.  There are so many

parties that I don’t get in-
vited to.  My attempts to

merge my nightmare
with your nightmare

kept getting interrupted.
I felt reasonably sure

that time was of the
essence.  That a

heartattack was
imminent.  Unless

I were somehow
able to arrive.  To,

you know, save the
day.  And most

especially
the night.

mcmxc

Keeping It Fresh

But it’s what I do.  To check in.
To say hi.  When I feel disconnected
or distant or when I’m dropping off
luggage or waiting for a taxi.  Other
games we play include looking into
a mirror for long periods of time,
walking all the way back home
and taking very long showers.

mcmlxxxix

This Isn’t Idiotically Frustrating

There’s just too much negativity
(which reminds me: mental note:
remember not to ask how he’s
doing; it drives him back off
the wagon [or maybe it’s
back on the wagon, I
always get confused]).

Anyway, I often get
confused. That’s my
thing. Especially lately.
That and losing pairs of
eyeglasses (mental note:
henceforth, pay less for
eyeglasses!). I used to
find the ‘absent-minded
professor’ thing charming.

I try to remain in character,
though, no matter where
the adventure takes me.
Like now. Or. Sure.
But. I’m not a record.
I mean I like the idea
of growth or evolution
(becoming better, more
adaptable, more resilient).

I went to the doctor with
chest pains (my pain,
not the doctor’s). EKG(!?)
is fine; he says it’s probably
stress or gas or a pulled muscle.
Fine. I pour myself a glass of
filtered water and two glasses
of wine. I continue my research
on Mozart for my master’s thesis.
Halloween is just around the corner.

mcmlxxxviii

1988: the year I experienced
high school dating.  Or
having a girlfriend.  A
somewhat foreign but
fairly fortuitous experi-
ment that took me into
1989 and toward senior
prom.  But, by then, the
experience was pretty
much over, which led
to going to prom with
a friend.  Which was
not a date.  Once at the
party, we went our sep-
arate ways, and were
both totally fine with
that.  But omigod it’s
okay if I don’t write.
Isn’t it okay if I can’t
write about Doctor
Atomic?  About
Peter Sellars’
libretto after
2 glasses of
pinot grigio
with Claudia?
I’m not sure
how long I’ve
been trying to
make this record.
I don’t even think
I’m being paid for it.
What can I do?  It’s
a life.  It’s a happening.

mcmlxxxvii

It’s kind of like a dream.  I
certainly don’t understand
it.  (The neighbor’s dog
who hardly ever makes
a noise is stirring up
quite a storm of ruffs
and barks, getting all
the other neighbor dogs
roused, and even
Coco seems un-
easy.)

Transition.  Anything.

I find it easy to put on
a mask when writing.
To take on someone
else’s voice.  On
paper.  The only
way I can comfort-
ably role-play.  Be-
sides onstage.  That’s

not true, of course.

The notion of just
sitting, of being
aware, of meditating.
If it weren’t for my
spine, zazen would
be at the top of my
list.  My list.  Is in
transition.  I’ve been
in such a state lately
that I keep a file of
lists that I need to
scrutinize, to sit on.

To merge into one.