when I consider the great many things that disappoint me I start w/ myself& end in the stars & refresh in the nauseating glow of gaseous capacities. it’swhat you’d want, deep spring swimming all blooms are latent potential realizedrunning around & awayyour hand at its heaviest is still a gentle wind ushering a sharp delivery sharpintellect sharp sensitivity to the order & disarray. you make me weep w/ theweather w/ the weathered w/ the mothered w/ the memory. a study of theparticular, a study of the width of obsession, of play & the particular, a confidencein kind in colliery in culinary in respite in repose like blue eucalyptus like caspiarunning around & awaybright & bold rhythm & boombat a touch of laughter too. bop & boo’d up.I write around what I can’t say & get explicit in that, you just get explicit &I’m jealous in that way makes me so happy we’re here in the greendome at thesame time. so we giggle thru the gush thru the bitter greens thru the churningof thick milks the ooze & awes of the gelatinous the ritual of amaro easingthe summer stomach in our finest cloths & Mary Janes in communion w/ ourcontemporaries counterparts counterpoints & the likerunning around & awayit’s never too late or too dark in our kitchen cinnamons & sansho in abundancethe labour is all the herbs we can’t describe in ease. a tasting menu of domestics,where the only payment is presence. the project of “What if This Time I DoNothing but Watch” the project of “What if I Do Nothing” & after workafter hours we embrace the nonnarrative the un-linear the rectangular & allthat’s all tangled in we fortify our plans to flee to our lovers & loved by any& all means running around & away