but bumperstickers rarely tell you how.. this week’s: Don’t Worry, Be Hopi.

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answer, or for a love poem: objects dropped together fall together.

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That fog is kidding
False alarm, cold land

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achilles
deposits
exposure

(uh oh, signs of the minim back.. those words in my head all week and don’t want more.. simply the rub)

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after reading norma cole:

feeling no body, least
of all mine, a single point
though through with memory

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arr. big poems. we want big.

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working late, this conversation happens: goodnight, jeff. goodnight oprah.

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misread: cozy thumbport

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last night made lazy okayu:

microwave 1 precooked and then frozen “rice bomb”
boil some water
into that wave a beaten egg or two
into that dump a packet of kikkoman’s wakame soup
dice up some scallions for the top (most laborious)
throw it all in a bowl with some pickled plums

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next session with the gouger today. what the hell’s this xanax supposed to do? I’d be better off with a spliff.