and then our exile

things i cannot touch, then, because i am too near

the nervous energy which demanded release erupted some seconds after i closed my eyes, and then would not wait – i hurried down to pray 'asr and changed, meeting z in the hallway before the msa office. what are you doing, he laughed out loud, taking in swim shorts and red socks. to the track, encircling green pavilion once and again, until finally half an hour later the breath catching ragged in my throat threw me off the ground and into the sky. but yet remained reality, and this alone, among all aggrandized, hedonistic, selfiscopical constructions, grinned at me as if to say: when (is) nobility (is) reduced to noble efforts, so near the end?

exhausted on the bus, reading the malahat review, fell asleep against the window-pane. two *girls got on, the sweet-sour of alcohol and pink fur-lined boots. still asleep when we arrived, someone reading the kite runner nearby rose unsure whether to wake me, but then i was in the aisle and a cheerful '‘morning' to the bus driver as i passed. once outside i realized it was late afternoon, explained the pause after my greeting. and then home, to the land of the free, the brave.

campus at night is truly beautiful.

the blind have an entirely different conception of life.

vote Green or feed the machine.
http://www.cbc.ca/canadavotes/riding/265

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*i was going to write: "two native girls". this, because it is a label, to apply to each. this unconscious, subconscious, strand, criss-crossing society, affixing itself: to separate and categorize.