Monday, November 17, 2003

Skipped gym today, sunday, and friday. went wed. and thurs -- about 370 cals each, walking, listening to bob & ray tapes, grinning like an idiot, and (most days) 3 sets of 12 abdominal crunches (w/weight resistance). No visible effect -- poor eating habits right now, can't get myself even to cook the endive in my fridge.

Did manage to do a good bit of work on Friday, Sat. eve and Sunday morning. Today was useless -- except for 2 150 words Weekly picks, accomplished nothing (though tidied apartment a little, and made clear list of what has to be done). Saw 'In The Cut' for no good reason, fairly bland, and what's the significance of the slight blurring at one edge of the screen, as if part of the picture plane was out of focus (I just answered my own question). Bad use of poetry as portent.

Sunday, good reading by Jordan Davis, Sarah Manguso (whom I didn't know before -- I like her book) and Chris Edgar. Then Shrimper show at 51 Buckingham w/ Joy and Lou Barlow solo. Gave out some copies of 'Set of Pipes,' which arrived recently from Dark Beloved Cloud.

Going to listen to radiospirits, write a couple of emails, and get up at 6 a.m.. Tired all day, to be honest. Noting that previous entry was Tuesday, I find that I cannot recall what on earth I did on Wed. or Thurs.

Dreamed that Mira O'Brien knit me a tie.

your head -- no, your brain --
no, your mind is a rock
polisher, what's in there tumbling
round, ever smoother, ever
rounder, becoming frictionless.
The roundest soon will spin
out onto the waxed lane
of the page. On the surface
of a sphere, no point can be told
from any other by its surroundings --
the topography is everywhere
the same, and the core is inacessable.
Every sphere fits perfectly
into every other, so long as their centers
are aligned. Mirror-ball.

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