There's no title to this one.
Now I've dreamed I was drunk, so drunk I flat
footed out of the hoop.
This morning I'm still outside.
A thing that never entered my mind, a thought before it
occurs to say, Jan van Eyck.
I'm a thought he will have, painting
the wedding of Arnolfini, to put a small round convex
mirror in the background, catching
the entire scene again, even himself painting it.
I must not lie down today.
I must stay near a phone and keep walking.
Someone gives me an orange.
It's too easy to love what is so near, as I've loved myself.