we lose weeks like buttons, like pencils (idea)
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Wed Oct 18 2000 at 5:16:01
Bill hands me a envelope and I am confused. Payday, already? I'm no martyr,
I need the money
, the envelope goes in my safest pocket. Another two weeks have zoomed by like something with its own sinister engine, something that does not
if it can truck on past.
On the phone we try to figure the last time we saw each other. I come up with Thursday. Anna has more of a head for time and she proves, by what movie was on tv that night, that it was last month.
The baby is nine weeks old, she says.
Come see her. Please. I am gripped by the terror that when I do go, Toccoa will be sitting up, talking, married.
How do I get rid of the twinges of probably having missed
the last perfect picnic day of 2000
. How did I get past missing the (one) snow day without taking any pictures of it. That still bugs me. Was January, seems like last week. This goes on and on, faster.
This summer has been volatile, kaleidoscopic, an onion. I don't know what happened when, or when it started, or how we got here. The rush of time used to terrify me constantly. Now it only terrifies me most of the time. Still, I have moments -
have moments, I can say - where we can sit back, lie back, on
bed or grass or each other
, try to figure out what happened when, and fail, and go silent, happy in a confusion of shared time, even if it's rocketing, even when it scares us. We keep each other in the same moment. We keep each other. Everything will change. It is our job to keep our hands strong in each other's grip.
I like it!
Life is half over at age 10
These are the only minutes you'll ever have. Take good care of them.
we are buried in rain
Setting your pencil down, and immediately losing it
It's been almost three weeks since yesterday.
where the marks should end
A world outside of time
They are in love with each other, or the city
December 29, 2009
the value of pencils
"Why is my mom three thousand miles away?": Life After The E2 End of Summer Denial of School Northwest Gathering
She asked me to copy my poem into her notebook
The leaves are falling too fast
The last cigarette before you quit smoking
I have a Shaymus and you don't.
Red Queen principle
The general theory of household item appearance and disappearance
Revenge of the Old Queen
Last Days of Summer
The easiest way to find it is to stop looking
Juniper Berries (& other botanicals)
The Adventures of Baron Munchausen
Fly to the Setting Sun
Ghost in the Shell 2: Innocence
The four C's of diamond grading
What I learned from the skateboarders outside my window
Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead
Prosenoder's Cup 2003
Gabriel García Márquez
Big Trouble in Little Sanchez
bullet with butterfly wings
December 10, 2017
I am more than the impulse to be seen
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