10 MAY 06
Weeks 11 and 12, 28 sentences:
"You've had just enough to drink that you're using words like douchebag, commanding me to write things down, and telling me to be quiet."
"Write that down."
(Since you ask.)
"Barrels full of burning wood."
"I moved it from my chest to my head."
(Fear in the body doesn't wonder what it is.)
"I keep getting words like invisible."
"Oh! wait. I know what it is: buried."
(Caught in the traffic between school's out and a funeral.)
"'I'll have the zuchini and a cup of tea,' I'll say."
"We'll get a sleeping car and stay up all night."
(It was a door I'd never seen.)
"No, wait--wait. His hammock was a drum."
"Day two."
(He's already fed up.)
"Then they're walking down a road and there's a train sound--and they might make a run for it, I don't know."
"She was listening to a ballgame, planning a meal."
(He left his boat unfinished.)
"He’s the oldest. He’s carrying the diagram."
"It's been an exciting lunch so far, what with the art, the reminiscing, the poetry, the choking."
(I cannot move the phantom.)
"You want the buffer? [laughs] You want the buffer?"
"Why am I losing sound?"
(Conversation, talking: that was our method.)
. . .
