Last weekend Andrea and I went to see The Manchurian Candidate.
Already I've managed to block out most of it from memory.
I remember Meryl Streep's glassy pink eyes...
Denzel Washington saying I'm not crazy. A vampirish doctor.

But I don't want to talk about that. I want to talk about
Breakfast; omelettes, bagels, coffee with soy milk & brown sugar.
"As soon as you disengage from the computer, I 'll get up,"
Jason says. He smells like a baby's blanket.

I woke him up with the Waking Life soundtrack.
"Can I have this cd?" I asked him. "You can have Silvio Rodriguez."
"I already DO have Silvio Rodriguez."
"Good. I'll make you some coffee."

What the hell am I doing here?
I don't belong here.

*

Rain at a faster clip than a drizzle, wind through Treetown.
Last night: poetry I don't remember. Bubble tea & white lace.
Art History. Watts. Jokes about being a Catholic Jew.
A cashew.

How 7 kids committed suicide last year at MIT.
How we don't know about the ones who died at UofM.
How a 300 lb Hispanic man punched a white boy in the face
out of the blue (Chicago) last week.

Now I smell like a baby's blanket. A few of my favorite things:
Coffee & cigarettes, puppies, long hot showers,
bookstores, walks in the park, the Michigan theater,
the smell of rosemary on a man in the morning.

"Are you ready for some coffee darlin'?"
"Since when do you sound like John Wayne?"