I had a really nice birthday. Day at the MFA with Degas' nudes, dinner with my family at Bergamot. The week since has been mixed, but I read Sean O'Brien's The Drowned Book (2007) and Irmgard Keun's The Artificial Silk Girl (Die kunstseidene Mädchen, 1932) and I've got three-quarters of Edward Petherbridge's Slim Chances and Unscheduled Appearances (2011) to go; I am not without really well-written diversions.
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- 1: With life and so much loss, time has weighted us
- 2: My old body that you buried with the mud and the timber
- 3: Out in space, coast to coast
- 4: Like a sprig of yarrow caught in the dark
- 5: The moon still rises on everybody else
- 6: To the green field by the sea
- 7: Eating cereal, remembering the sky
- 8: We'll tell you of a blossom and of buds on every tree
- 9: Am I lost inside my mind?
- 10: And the biggest old rascal come tumbling down first
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