“…people like your mother
or others unlike your. Mother who have nothing
in common with you except to be like you
whom they never know.”

— John Ashbery, “O Knave,” Planisphere, 64.

Up 9:30. Breakfast/coffee. Did very little with the morning and early afternoon. Located a book I needed, Richard J. Ripano, The New Blue Music, but didn’t find the passage I thought I remembered (that happens a lot).
Called my dad 2-3. D/l’ed a copy of Cal Newport’s Deep Work, skimmed around in it. This kind of disciplinarian productivity stuff bugs me so much, but I need to take myself in hand.
Wrote 6-8 - more or less done w/ the paragraph at hand. Worked w/ a Pomodoro app and a “Study With Me” video - some guy in Scotland looking out a library window, w/ rain sounds. It all kinda helped.
Read 30 p. quota of Broven, pencil in hand. Short walk outside.
3 p. JA (2 poems). 2 days behind in poetry notebook.
Read some of Deep Work in bed. I’m not proud.