Said to be the cruelest month. A lion tamed and reborn a lamb. There is ruination in this lamb. Today there has been a soft misting rain failing all day. It is the 105th anniversary of the 1906 Earthquake, and coincidentally enough there occurred at around 3pm, a 3.6 earthquake, that I felt while siting in a meeting on the 14th floor. After work I ride my bike wet, but not impeded and return back through the Mission over to the park to take the J to Glen park for the reading. We are moving in streams of thoughts about writing and what things mean, considering the line, its insistence on fact and what is meant by vision. Bought two independently published collections of poetry and prose all while trying to pull the ice pick from my leg before walking back to the train station to await the J again between two sections of highway composed of industrial histories competing for speed in always in search of the mythical third rail.
Thought more about this song:
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