automatic & instantaneous
Listen, the October air is particularly white thismorning, and clouds stretching out over the hills are gasping & tangling with themselves. Yr flowers emerging in the garden appear uniquely crushable if not incomprehensibly orange. Some scent of Assam remains in my fingers as a result of the morning's preparations and nothing to do with their own mysteriousness. All the mud San Francisco can hope for is teaming in the gutters of the Sunset, a result of the rains that have singlehandedly dashed any dream of flowers lining the city's sidewalks. For myself it may be ambitious enough to consider the building a fountain, to cross the wet pavement of the avenues and slink into our bedroom for the remainder of the afternoon with a tape recorder and a toy piano.