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2022-01-25 - 4:21 p.m.

dust motes in the sunbeam

there are things i find i cannot throw away. the engineer's gridpaper notebook in which i scrabbled for a proof of the conjecture that would've been the centerpiece of the dissertation i never wrote. a pair of socks for which i can only ever find one or the other, never both at once. a "world traveler" desk calendar two years out of date.

* * *


i left the lemons on the tree for far too long. they sapped its strength. now it is rife with spider mites, sloughing its leaves.

just survive until spring

* * *


reading: a biography of lola ridge. oh i don't like the way she treats her children.
listening to: old mixtapes, which i am digitizing. i have been avoiding new music for a long time, not wanting to taint it with my state of mind. this old music brings back old memories.
working on: returning the spare room to a functioning state. an endless sink and churn.
in the garden: the forecast promises fifteen inches of snow. we will bring some firewood indoors to keep it dry for the fire pit.


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