I woke up this January 1 with a hacking cough, and after assuring all my parts had successfully made it through the New Year's Eve party we had last night, I decided to start my day and year off with a Richard Brautigan poem. This is what I turned to in my book, and I think I'll share it with you all... I feel pretty facedown in a well of my own making right now...
I Cannot Answer You Tonight in Small Portions
I cannot answer you tonight in small portions.
Torn apart by stormy love's gate, I float
like a phantom facedown in a well where
the cold dark water reflects vague half-built
stars
and trades all our affection, touching, sleeping,
together for tribunal distance standing like
a drowned train just beyond a pile of Eskimo
skeletons.
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