Saw David Buuck read & write at Electric Works. Got home. Ate. Slept. Got up. Poked a new hole in my black belt. Saw the man beside the shopping cart. Got on the train. The coldest train I've ever been on. An icicle! Finished The Shirt Weapon which is, you know, just fantastic...:


Trains, we were always on the trains.
Now Holland, rising face of an apparent flood.
Holland, the sleeper-cars rattling like snakes.
I heard something was going on.
Holland, I signaled our attendant.
She was a rubbery person leaning inside.
Nathan and Brian were talking.
And I wanted a beverage.
She used this as leverage.
Came all the way in and sat slow.
She began to kiss with Brian and Nathan.
Brian said, "Oh, Vesna...", etc.
Talk about uncomfortable! I fucking left.
The corridor full of tall people.
Wait, they were smoking.
And wearing famous clothes.
And I had burned fingers.

That was when I noticed... the extra person


Rolling toward Berkeley, the train still so cold. I read Train Ride and feel like a poet. On my way to work. In the freezing BART car.

Got off to Jens Lekman. And I got here, it's the end of the fiscal year.


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