Saturday, October 6, 2018

Sometimes the novel is outside the book


Look up.
Tell me that isn't a confluence of words?  
Now tell me, what's for lunch?

1 comment:

  1. the old slide shows me in a dirty bathrobe, in back of the butterfly chair, a brick fireplace behind me, with stockings hanging from hooks. yes, christmas. she is fully made up, probably back from a trip to elizabeth arden's in town. she is holding a large martini glass and a cigarette with lipstick on the tip. she is looking straight into the camera, I am looking down at the floor. neither of us is smiling.

    I wonder who is taking this picture.







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