not close enough to anyone to have a meaningless conversation on a sunday. nice breeze. walk to the nearest creek that isn't a sewage spill trickle. still confused as to what leaves have to do with poetry.

tomorrow at noon i will be ending my unprofitable association with the element oxygen.

i took my portfolio to the museum. the director or his assistant pulled out "kid once-upon-a-menthol" and paused before telling me this just wouldn't do; they had become a zoo and would reopen in three months.

that night i couldnt sleep. i wrote an article, "museum saved by kid once-upon-menthol".
    later in the night, i won the Pulitzer for my even-handed reporting on the controversy over kid once-upon-a-menthol: urban hero or tobacco company emissary to the pre-pubescent drifter type? the fact that joe camel showed up for the book signing, along with me, kid menthol, and six left-handed snails with brains the size of basketballs didnt help.
    we took the snails 20-17 in a pick-up game. it was maravich's (3-5, 7 pts.) last game.