Construct or not, I like the succession of days, weeks, months and years, the numbers, the dates, all the remembrances and holidays, though I don't like birthdays and in particular, I don't like my own birthday, don't like to even think about it. But I still enjoy birth dates, the whole, foolish progression of astrological signs, the diaspora of generations. I like the dailiness of blogging, the newness and relevance and equality of each and every day, nevertheless within that equivalence an astonishing diversity of moods, themes, clusters, clashes, giggles, sighs, asides apprehensions, mornings, mournings, innovations, improvisations, proddings. welcomings.

Anyway, I just wanted to start Tuesday off with a few more lines from Elizabeth Robinson's "Apprehend",
(Apogee, 2003), read a bit more, maybe listen to some Paul Butterfield, and hit the hay. So, good night, good morning or afternoon, as the case may be!

"The witch herself wears stripes
marking her as a pariah.
How she happened to know
that there are options even in repetition:
starvation breeds resourcefulness.

Yes, she paints one line atop another
until the stripe itself acquires dimension
and curls like a tongue
from the limits of two dimensionality.

She paints one line atop another on her naked form"