An old premise: If we were all told today that tomorrow we would die, we'd get beautiful in that short time. On the radio, they'd talk. Politicians would sound little. Some people would keep routine. Others, argue. Many would compulsively remember. Look: the immigrant butcher raises a finger, telling his former customers that they may go on robbing him. Mail carriers open letters: "Wish you were here," mainly. Rachel sits in her kitchen and stares at a cereal box and believes it. A dancer bends to breaking, curiosity overriding. Drinking parties form. Lil absconds like a runnel toward ocean. People marry. The mute genius speaks when he tells his errand boy, "Uh, I mean...I thought I'd have time." The waif in the well celebrates removed by shouting. Daughters regard their mothers and wonder what their own bodies still hide. Oscar feels connected to his missed chance at love, knowing somewhere right now -- at a cafe, on a boat -- she, too, is here.   4

iprefernotto 14 Aug 2015

tell them I won't be long...   5

Earology 20 Dec 2014

For Gwilym. I'll miss you. #Tribute   2

Happy_Ears 16 Dec 2013

So good and apt that Colbert grabbed it for his farewell. To @Han, @flaneur, @ndreasa, @_ralph and everybody here -- So long and thanks for all the jams :)

DaOverSoul 26 Sep 2015