January 2, 2015

I’m walking the streets of Black Mountain and a woman says to me, “Why, you’re Santa Claus’s brother.”

Me: “What makes you think I’m not the man himself?”
   
Her: “Because I met the REAL Santa last year.”
   
I turn to her. She’s seventy if she’s a day.
   
Bought a reminiscence of Tennyson by Hallam Tennyson, the collected poems of Oliver St. John Gogarty, and a biography of Tennessee Williams in the second-hand store.
   
Late Christmas greetings sent to Germany, Kansas, Turkey.