Is everything
endlessly finite?

Maybe that’s just the feeling
you get on an island

finitude I mean

so many steps
down to the beach

in any direction
smoke lifting from

canefields on the other
side of the freeway

—Monty Reid, “cuba A book,” Disappointment Island, 115

Up 8.
Read 30 p. Fanon bio.
Started making arrangements to get together w/ Laura C. + Mark Spencer and significant others in her garden, probably first week of June; also taking delivery on the Nord keyboard I bought from Mark a couple months ago.
Therapy.
Got a cup of coffee and sat outside at E77 for the first time since March 2020. Not as dramatic as it might sound. Finished reading the Monty Reid collection, wrote several pages ahead in poetry notebook, and read 2 above/ground chapbooks; ava hoffman, that I want, trans vispo; Edward Smallfield, a journal of the plague year, as advertised.
Got back around 5. Put on some records while Bree exercises - another side of Love Saves the Day (Wilson Picket and a live version of “Give It Up or Turn It Loose,” part of the Disney recording of the songs from Say One For Me, w/ Roberta Shore + Rex Allen, and side one of a strange Annette Peacock record, X-Dreams, just this side of Beefheart. Leafed through a couple of Manny Farber reviews from the big Library of America collection I’ve never read cover to cover, and the Elio Vittorini story that leads of the Penguin anthology of Italian Short Stories. That might be part of June’s reading, a story a day.
Joined Bree for part of her phone conversation w/ Ron.
Got offline b/c I got a text that I was using up data. Watch a movie I had on the hard drive - The Third Girl From the Left w/ Kim Novak and Tony Randall - and a couple of Dory Previn songs. Weirdly, the Chubby Checker/Ernest Evans thing comes up. Lights out 11.