A cigarette is its own reward.
Nonplussed but pissed past tense.
Like your own voice on tape.
Her girly skirt over her girly heart head.
Bottoms up. In your eye.
Back to Burma with money and a wife.
Dance paint feet hallway arm torch. I always thought I would.
Soecufucs, Specifics. One finger too far right. For this there are heated towels.

—Dierdre Kovack, “Ballyhoo,” Mannerism, 73

Up 7.
Breakfast/coffee. Sliced a mango, cleaned the stove, swept.
Read 30 p. Fanon bio (before 9:30).
Made an inquiry about getting space at a writer’s room in LIC.
Bree’s massage therapist came over for the first time since lockdown. Everyone’s vaxxed, but he sees a lot of clients so we all stayed masked.
10 p. Kovac; took out recycling; watched 20 min. A Man Vanishes.
Worked from 11:30-1:30, but probably only half of that was productive. Looked up some details about “When the Saints Go Marching In,” and found a digital copy of John Work’s spiritual collection.
Called dad 2-3. Took a break, watched another 10 min. A Man Vanishes, probably enough for today.
Wrote 3 letter-length emails, to Vicky Wheeler, David Nagler, and Simon Joyner. Took a couple hours. I have a backlog of this kind of thing.
Took a walk briefly, before it got dark; found a bench, read a (quite short) story by Alberto Savinio and 10 more p. Kovac.
Finally watched the Impedance and Resistance video I had a song in.
Nothing worth noting after that - lights out 11, listened to part of an NYT podcast on the CRT controversy.