Let's Record the Evidence

Two jugs of milk, butter, fruit. A choice of pear, apple, or tangerine. Pumpkin pie. Cans of thick evaporated milk. One went bad in the cupboard. The luxurious candor of space. A whole room. Hundreds of books. All getting it wrong.


To have had a chance. To have succumbed to timidity, to easy things. To let it unfold. To care, to get in the stream of it and let it take you, your work.

Look up, you’ve been had. Those friendly beasts, jargon from the crooked fence and the ring finger tipping you to sure.