I was moving quickly around a small set of dark, high-ceilinged, crowded rooms, packing the brown cardboard boxes as quickly as I could, we were being deported. I was making fast anxious decisions, what to take, what to leave behind. It was all a sorting of books, but easier than you might imagine. I'd lay my hand on one and there was no hesitation, it was either immediately yes or---why'd I ever bother with that in the first place? Pairs and stacks were being emotionally tossed aside as leave-behinds.

Easy dream analysis later: this having been the eve of the eve of my 42nd birthday, my friend and I agreed it was all about clearing out what doesn't count. A horoscope somewhere this morning says two thousand and ten is a year of completion and transition for those born February 22nd. "A time of cleaning out dead wood". What is a book, if not exactly that?

blessing the boats
by Lucille Clifton (at St. Mary's) may the tide that is entering even now the lip of our understanding carry you out beyond the face of fear may you kiss the wind then turn from it certain that it will love your back may you open your eyes to water water waving forever and may you in your innocence sail through this to that

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OBj9AQJ3a6I

sticky heroes in robes

super 8 position
michael johansson