Distribution Automatique

Saturday, May 15

notebook (poem fragment, with crossed out part restored)
circa 1986


Gradually, the pointy spikes of time begin to
Smooth a bit, but you never get fully used to
The world assuming a strange disguise in the
face of any- even the most realistic- expectations.
In a face shines infinite understanding,
total sensitivity to every nuance of my frustration.
Clearly, any passing through would demand
The lightest of steps. In the middle of a hot
July afternoon, a dog takes a leak, looking
Around in an embarassed kind of way. For a moment,
even the grandest dilemma is assured the
possibility of relief, because of a dog's expression.
But the day continues, my preoccupations continue
The moon gradually becomes full. And you can stay,
but I'm looking forward to visiting the bakery.
[Now things are beginning to get less eerie,
in spite of the fact that nothing replaces
money. Nothing replaces anything, Jack
Oh, you know what I mean]