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: if I turned on the lights it would be late afternoon and that would be confusing. I’d think about dinner, not breakfast; taking a shower, not getting my long-johns on; pouring a glass of wine, not making sure I have my bus tickets. I’m never more aware of my otherness than when I watch the news. Sumo wrestlers. Microwavable heating pads for the tub. Alice Notley:
30th Birthday;
The Best Issues of Comic Books;
Requiem for the First Half of Split. Snow blusters while walking the 45 minutes to the bus terminal. A room of aching machines, gray and labeled. A winter black & white scene of an empty railroad station with the occasional tin worm of a train. The camera lights are hot. My shirt fuzzes on the monitor; unsure if its in this dimension or another. This is a rehearsal. I’m fixed on my TV self. Uncomfortable, like wearing a costume. Wishing I had a House of Parliament to tell me what to eat for dinner.
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