An Old Game The Wizard
I am trying to remember the difference between things. Between standing and blinking, between opening a window and hiding in the woods until dinner. No one should help me. I can remember the rules, but still have a hard time playing. Last week at the card shop I gave the clerk some money and a card. I meant for her to keep them both but was unclear in my directions. Then I had no money and one card. When I opened it up it flashed a light at me like it was taking my picture. Then I was developing. I could not remember if things had always been this way. Don’t tell me. That would be cheating and besides, the answer is here behind my tongue, giving me nutrients I need to stay alive. I wish that every event did not so much resemble its brother. Goodbye Lorca I keep saying on my knees. I love how a wet leaf feels against my fingers: calm, with no progression. No different than an elephant pausing to expire. Goodbye elephant I keep saying to everything in case. I would lean against all people and fall asleep
only how can I be certain that they are not saplings with just enough strength to stay upright themselves.