: 4 lime green globules on the surface of my vision. Blink and they’re brighter; concentrate and they flash red and purple. The ghost of the fourth side of a die, perhaps? I’ve been writing that word a lot lately… perhaps. Maybe. On the fence. It was 72 degrees Fahrenheit in Oakland the other day. When the beautiful becomes frightening. Today found out Reginald Shepherd died in September. Aggravating snow in the face. Iwamizawa University for a meeting. That mound of snow looks delicious enough to eat, like a thick layer of frosting on a yard-sized cupcake. Push, shove, and eradicate. My hands appear so pale with knuckles red and veins blue. Day of surprises: my baby brother flew half way across the world and now he’s in Iraq.
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