The poetry book I’ve been working on each day now is really getting there. Upload then, upload now, upload again, a different maintenance man looking at the same new dryer leaves, upload again, upload again, and yes, I see that, you last italic.


when a book falls it falls open. i want what i want and i don’t reason with it. i give words and cherish words and am touched by words and the other things that warm or chill my skin.

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