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eating. we are going to eat at the Indian restaurant today. are psyched it’s open. gmother suggested this in the first place, since she is going more deaf and more blind, to go, and she would reimburse us. a day later, she has my mother call: “she wants to know what she can make.” nothing! no-thing! nuth-ing! please, please! save-us. Saaaaaav-e uh-ssss. mother calls this morning as the ambassador, and is all like, “she feels like you can’t eat in her house.”

in my mind I am saying, “all pilots have told me to avoid drama.” and, “yes, tell her this is true. and that her house is incomplete.”

in words I am telling: “we are going on the first idea, to go somewhere else.”

you give a first idea, I am going with that. don’t complicate my life. that is un-pilot like.

many
one dollar
bills in pocket
and a pen there
that traveled
with
to washing
machine
broke loose
spread
all sorts
of ink
in a
high speed
fashion

many clothes trashed
on christmas eve

a few mins. ago
police sirens go off
in the neighborhood
I joke that
this holiday
is not properly
sanctified

we fold what clothes
we can
we are the strange ones
on the block
in the building
in the apartment
the cats look
at us funny

. . .

traditional. presents are wrapped, unwrapped. as a kid I would devour present after present like a beast, wrapping all over the place. but there is no wrapping on the presents I have to give to them – slightly feel bad . . . but time is untimely sometimes. december was hell on earth for a working man.

lights. I always enjoy the lights. I think, too, there should be more Halloween lights. but this is not the time or place to discuss this. we are about to head out for a Christmas Indian dinner, then a Christmas family thing . . .