December 21, 2008

Longest night. Dim, cold stars.

Poisoned by the dish I couldn’t pronounce at La Paz, I spent the last half hour hurling into the frozen darkness at the end of my porch. I think that episode is over. It’s like climbing out of a sick bed. I should have arranged my life so that I would have more to talk about at the sacred solstice than nausea. How I got vomit on my glasses I’d rather not know.

Overheard too many silly conversations today. Has it been a mark of all times or just of recent ones to assume arguments are equal if they can be stated in equivalent grammatical units? Yes, you can say that the duck was made for the feather as easily as that the feather was made for the duck, but that does not make it an equal proposition.

My Limerick friend Marian is living for a few weeks on Christopher Street, in an apartment with bizarre plumbing, which used to be inhabited by sailors.