: The flurry. A whitewashing of fine powder six inches over night. My front door made an architects arc. The snow angels of doors looks like a fifth of pie. A US Airways Airbus A320 crashed into the Hudson River, floating like a ferry. “It looked like everybody was really calm, like on the subway platform when it’s crowded, standing shoulder to shoulder.” It’s opening ceremonies this morning. Walt Whitman: Crossing Brooklyn Ferry. She’s riddled with symptoms. Spoke becomes spork, made becomes maid. Met at Asano restaurant for shonenkai. A video of a teacher on the ski slope, U. adjusts the speaker behind me, “Be careful!” he warns. Boiling nabe. The party moves to Saru and some teachers fall away. Vodka tonics, I’m getting drunk. Text T. (where are you?), Y. (have a safe and wonderful trip!), and A. (where are you?).
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