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August, 2003

I'm actually awake. I've been awake before but not in a writing state. It's amazingly cooler and there are so many crickets, even here in Brooklyn, and not as surprising a car alarm. Quick, a blessing, back to crickets and turtles moving about, cats jumping off the bed, I'm surrounded by creatures always (and cars, books, walls). I found an old globe today that lights up, outside the door or Charles' apartment. I've been waiting for years for one. It's old, with Yugoslavia, USSR, Burma, all peeling off, covered in dust & wax. Neglected & discarded globe, now mine. I'd love to rearrange geography. Today really felt like August. Delancey purring in my ear, Essex laying by the door.



© 2003 by the respective poets