Photos first, then the
baby albums. Love letters.
We can buy new clothes.
Packing to evacuate
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Photos first, then the
baby albums. Love letters.
We can buy new clothes.
Photos first, then the
baby albums. Love letters.
We can buy new clothes.
Her view from the hill
– once so fine in good weather –
just blackened landscapes.
Anne emails to say
smoke plumes rise like shrouds of loss.
Below, hell ablaze.
In bad rains bathroom
ceiling leaks. A slow tick tells
of water stains mapped.
At 6:30 they
awake to find I’m still up.
The curse of deadlines.
You think you know me.
Carefully constructed, I
reinvent daily.
Anonymity
becomes us all as we put
our second life first.
Some days the words spread
smoothly. Other days they stick,
like peanut butter.
I live for numbers.
Check my website stats hourly.
Page view addicted.
I’m writing during
the day. Quiet house, others
gone. The muse comes out.