…Slowly I turned… never more
The world around us is hard and we’re soft.
Do you wish me a good morning, or mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not; or that you feel good this morning; or that it is a morning to be good on?
Reader, it had the taste of theft
A theft so tiny as to be absurd.
and come winter, an overcast morning remains indefinite:
When the manufacturer called inquiring as to the trim, Matt finally arrived at yellow—
the most legible, almost incipient and unexamined shade of yellow.
flush for the most part with a congenial, ruddy palette,
Or the flawed beauty of travertine.
We have enjoyed her friendship. We
have enjoyed her tennis lessons.
At the Drop of a Hat
At the Drop of Another Hat
They continue to write animal songs (one celebrating a love affair between an
armadillo and a derelict tank is the best of the new group)
Yellow if you’re misremembering
which Gena Rowlands role in which Cassavetes film.
I take photos of, like, the grip of a hammer,
The photograph is joyful, approximating infinity.
“I like the idea of teenage furniture,” he says.
ease that springs from effort, like skating.
familiar, the way dreams are familiar even if their textures feel notional.
A smooth and melting sound.
“Downhearted Duckling”
Someone Else’s Hand, Someone Else’s Name, Something for Everyone.