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Trail: 2005-03-20 Love the poem, not the poet

2005-03-20 Love the poem, not the poet

I don’t know why life has to be the way it is. i am not sure what force is at work. i do not pretend to know what makes a man a man, and woman, woman.

My coffee with a phantom turned out to be red wine with a wolf. after a long day at grandmother’s house, no less.

a day at the sea

A: you should be jealous
Z: why?
A: because the sea and I once were lovers, i know that now.
Z: oh yeah, you aren’t alone... the sea is a whore


the sea continued to caress me with his mists as if to say, it’s been a long time my love... you haven’t forgotten have you?

and then the wolf