Thursday, April 15, 2010
Back from my creekside walk on which I thought mostly illicit impossible thoughts. There used to be a bridge and now I can't cross over. My god. Is there no end to this? I'm glad I can't see into the future because if it holds no more than more of the same - ah I'm okay, just musing about erotic doubles of various sorts, by which I'm thinking of the Ashbery of course, but also of peaches I once mashed. It's been too long. Now I want to come home.