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nervous as a cloud of birds. the hurricane comes. I am not in my car that does not exist. snow us down to nothing. washington d.c. does not have control over this. I wish I had more patience. I wish the xmas lights on the houses could do even more for me. possibly strand them around your face and I could bare to look at you. how to pray for your oppressor? this music has variation, not like the radio, unlike the day on same carpet which I could be falling to, this rotten place has a name like any catastropy.

dupont circle discussons. silver spring, wheaton, bethesda – all our little towns.
they’re arguing about the subway system. snow will be pleasant if I can get away from here…