and then our exile

everywhere the faint rippling of water as somewhere the drifts of white hardened snow are hollowed through until where suddenly the subterrean tunnels above dark earth fall through to the air and sky. the smell of spring in the air, warm railway ties and the pungent stirrings of what is perhaps the uncurling of dormant roots and the bursting through of white buds at the edges of poplar branches (the perhaps because of the constant qualification, a last saving grace). pussywillows soft as miniscule white feathers, a dusting of snowflakes, on the rounded red-brown of what was grey bark; the halos of dark moss around tall cottonwoods have radiated to make space, to stake their claims, the time of the snow is past. water standing deep, flooding the driveway, mud among the rushes.

and the people themselves seem brighter but more surrounded. (how much can be lost, in the urge for legitimation)

it is an exclusive world.

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today i watched through bus windows as across the spring grass at corbett hall a mother and her young daughter held the hands of a baby taking its first, halting, uncertain, swaying steps. (it was the best part of my day.)(as i ducked under the garage door later i looked up to see usman waving at me from the window.)

while behind me a girl eating an apple talked into her cellphone, advice to play hard-to-get, he (a sportsplayer who does not live in edmonton) should have to work to get you, not the other way, and i'm sure he's getting the signals, all you have to do is wait, i'm sure you'll see him again.

while in my bag fifteen books (icarus fallen, waiting for godot, anxious angels, a short history of existentialism, paula, christianity and existentialism, eva luna, things fall apart, being and existence in kierkegaard's pseudonymous works, the narrow pass, anti-memoirs, the book of questions, the ethics and existentialism of kierkegaard, the memoirs of pable neruda, the notion of encounter) tried to form me in their image. (just who do i think i'm fooling.)

what happens when the last flake / falls? (n.iqbal)

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this summer, rooq and i iA launch our careers as singersongwriters.

i should do a warmup song for drama soon. am caught between "all i really need", "if you want to sing out", "the war of 1812", and...other undefined things. give suggestions?