Thursday, August 04, 2005

round midnight

It begins to
tell, round
midnight, round
midnight. I do
pretty well
till after
down. Supper
time I'm
sad, but it
really gets bad
round midnight.
Jon Hendricks' words to that great Monk tune. The floor is covered with printouts of poems - something I very rarely do these days, print things out. My computer corruption is complete. I see the image on the screen as an extracted thing - but I've just finished a non-sequential sequence of 25 poems, & I'm trying to decide what goes with what, & who to send them to.

So maybe it isn't so bad, round midnight, round midnight. I seem to be doing pretty well. But I think I'll wait until much later in the morning to finish the job off.

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