I slept another eight hours last night. I don't feel any better rested, but I have to assume it's good for me. I got up at half past nine for a singing lesson and almost didn't feel someone was unraveling my brain through my eyes. I walked most of the way home from Belmont; spent the afternoon on my boring job. Tonight I proofread half a Greek dialogue and made five honeycakes. I could go for some kind of diaspora trifecta if I translated something in Ladino.
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- 1: I specialize in opera myself
- 2: Can't I take my own binoculars out?
- 3: And those who can remember when the night sky was a tapestry
- 4: Plates will shift and the earth will groan
- 5: Look into that smoldering building's bombed-out fog until it finally lifts
- 6: Probably not going to leave the slightest trace in the wake when it's my turn
- 7: Distant as a dream of the cradle on this lonesome beach
- 8: It's only eight, right?
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