last night, this morning, I dreamt

incidental walking. This has to be

write, as one writes

full of synchronicities


there was a good question

sales at collected works

was refreshing though

the answer was that


also liked more figures

the flow of wealth

the most telling status

there were gaps


a relief to find that

some time missing from this

and also don’t see the problem

bull-fighting on NYR fiction: dull dull dull


I preferred Saturday

reading the last of the unauthorised life

to fend off some of this gloom with objects

papers before accidentally napping


a radical approach to the simplicity of music

concrete/asemic poetry is trying to get

concealed rocks and declivities

two useful things today


we saw a man, stranded, hanging by his arms

they said they were too busy

because socially diffident

several shifts in point of view


some annoyance there

visual interrupted texts

seemed not to want to be a part

the day compiling books


my mother’s love of victimhood

a constant. She knows how

at the bottom of the tea

and now a smiling crab


a sad child’s face, leaning on its hand

since all my bridges are destined

I give up. I really do.

I might have made a commitment


we discussed her new farce

some fabulous artists she is

we’d eaten with them the night

we decided to stay another


this we’ve done before

I have been reading Carson

the research trial sounded good

we agreed we all need


Foxline stab layout. It will

monoclonal antibody with this

child’s drawing of a tree

do need to be read in the context


Knocked two things off

all day socialising

an unconscionably long time

there is so much more

Notes

Single lines from a journal

line in italics from Phillip Glass, interview with NYR

Carson, is Canadian poet Anne Carson