Song for Future Books
By Joanna Fuhrman
The book is made of glass and I look
through it and see more books.
Many glass books.
Is someone speaking?
A muffled voice is telling me
to make soup which I think
means I am loved.
What other kind of cup
fills itself?
Can there be a cup of cup?
A cup of itself?
Outside a black squirrel has wiggled
to the end
of a very skinny branch.
When the squirrel breathes
the whole tree shakes,
as if the squirrel were the soul
of the tree.
Have you ever felt like
such a tree?
Not sayin'
I have.
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Quickie this time because Russell Crowe and Ryan Gosling are on Colbert and I'm distracted. There were moments on Thursday when it actually looked like the sun might come out, though it only lasted for a few minutes at the time, and while I'll always take slightly cooler weather over hot and muggy, I am really missing the light. Otherwise it was an uneventful morning with a bunch of unexciting work and chores.
We needed to get cat litter, so I convinced Paul to go take a walk at Brookside Gardens first in case there were goslings (there were) and turtles, frogs, herons, etc. (yay)! Then we did some shopping, came home for dinner, and watched The 100 -- Pike can kill Kane now, I don't care -- and Orphan Black -- STOP IT, FELIX, AND COSIMA, YOU HAD BETTER NOT. Now Ryan is throwing a tantrum and storming off Colbert's set!
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