1. A lunch improvised by Aleve Douglas in her hyper-clean kitchen: pickled okra wrapped in slices of smoked turkey; sea salt chips; freshly picked raspberries and plums. While listening to Alice Coltrane. While sipping ice water made crispy with slices of cucumber, from Mason jars.
2. Royal Trux's "Accelerator". Restatement of the ear's truism: good music will always shock time as if present, to be instant.
3. Massive surprising understanding of shortcomings and attempts, frustrations and processes of long healing (not long processes, processes of it) cupped in Nicole Sartini's conspiratory left armpit. In the right rests a head, free of thinking.
4. Observing the sun through a lens of bourbon. Goldenness as natural inheritance inherent, in distillery.
5. Including the gradual, long-earned, recovery out of certain bad, protective habits--hermetic conceptual as gloves before the face. Padded. For defense against impact and enrichment of attack; which, false inside the art of the transcendent attempt, is the same thing, isn't it?
6. For, from now on out, you will see and not read him--the wildly indirect satyr, mewling through chewed grass, running to discover whole fields without legs.
7. But an eye for headstones inside feelings.
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