and then our exile

again, again the oars. it's going to be a long week. (provision as safeguard)

something beautiful i'm rediscovering, a-sudden, in parallel lives, concerns, the commonality of our generation. more than and including coincidences-that-are-not. farooq and i talking today (he unto whom remain Six Days, a marriage to resound), and how our lives themselves call out, demand, silenced, fall silent, and so here we are, remain, like residue.

sequential slabs of rock as for catharsis (..and jesus was a sailor though only drowning men could see him). understanding the natural arrogance like pulling teeth.

reread essays submitted before i left, and it no longer seems such a good idea to use the words "bob geldof" in the title of something comparing keynes and smith on roles of government. asking revisionist history.

sister s asked me today to write about ottawa. i said yes, and still intend to...this cold heat attaching itself to these eyelids, full of weight and some anger, a slight escape, the knowledge someday sleep will not be something i sink into but something which is true.