standing at the window i am pretending
to be virginia woolf, elongate shape or
shadow cast on the sill where a blue
triangle an envelope or catapult barely
seen on the lawn outside dissolves into
the recently cut lawn oh dinner i think
perhaps a filet of sole and carrots a
white, white sauce i wish i had a maid
to arrange these objects so carefully
on the table the lilies white now bloom
and he's off no doubt to catch a train
grease his gun there is a computer in
this, there is a woman in this presently
the rain will cease i can stop this folly
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