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So now I'm like Hel-lo, try an figure out my own intonation, evokation, mystery synthesis of colored glowing shapes in plodding transit across a shadowy field. And what is that meant to remind you of? Bingo! Three goldfish and a cigar for the lady! She's crying, arms outstretched to some whimsical concept of fatherhood, turned away cold. (Wishing won't get her anywhere.) Grasping at straws, straw poll, one eyed jack. Let the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be clever and engaging, that's all I'm looking for, sell my satin sister down the river and forget about all my half-cocked grandeur. Let the light in, my child.

Jack --
My grandma called last night and said we can't afford to keep Susie at the shelter any longer. She said to talk to you about it because after all, you're the reason she's there to begin with, and you should take some responsibility for once. Last time I saw her was in March, she seemed to know which way was up but I'm worried about her -- I don't know if she'll be able to handle herself -- Manhattan in July is enough to drive me nuts, let alone...

Anyway, give me a call. I'm still living upstairs from Laura and Anthony (Anthony's living with her now), you know the number.