Where will you go, little vagabond, anonymous familiar,
Best advice I ever heard I learned at the poker table: Shut up & deal.
The years of my youth, my sensual life—how clearly I see their meaning now.
Like a mouth set in the frozen ground. & how our childhoods were informed by it—this innate sense of something missing.
Today even the cows are tired have lain down, tuckered, tucking their legs beneath them
Only the stones know my name.
The back of our family’sKing Jamesforgot my birthdaybut still keeps a blank spacefor my death date.
Winter and summer the watchman sat on the roof of the palace of Atreidas and looked out. Now he tells the joyful news. He saw a fire flare in the distance.
