December 24th, 1972

“She was just wiggling her tail and trying to get to me. And I couldn’t get to her.”

and I couldn’t get to her.

and I couldn’t get to her.

if my mother’s existence could be transformed into a sound it would be a sob– a final sob.

Thank God I didn’t die there years ago– there’s so much I wouldn’t know.

***

In ancient times there was a country whose harvest came in and it was poisonous. Those who ate of it became insane.

“There is but one thing to do,” said the king. “We must eat the grain to survive, but there must be those among us who will remember that we are insane.”