What Passes for Engagement

The camera says one thing, shows another, and what we believe thereby creates a spiritual - a pointless - triangulation. Get it? This is what passes for relationship now, this is what passes for engagement. Decamping yet again for your corner of the world. The tiny wooden cross I wear appears in the faces of those who perceive it, reflections studying reflections wearing reflections. "And so forth" may as well be the mode. The title? We bury the pigeon shot dead by a neighbor, musing on good intentions and the functionality of shovels. Thank Christ somebody was thinking! The problem of course is that somebody else wasn't. You bring wine, I'll bring willingness. The joy? Well, it's helpful to be aware of the referential nature of language without making a big deal about it, just sort of thinking about what can't be said and yet is real, yet is present. "Knowing you/knowing me." Another pair of shoes ruined, yet another way poverty makes light of me. I woke early to read the mail, then went back to bed, a bad one-two combination because it didn't involve either coffee or sex. These apple blossoms are lovely, these bookshelves bear splendidly the weight of ideas, and in general my fear of love gets more and more specific. You never send pictures which confuses me which is maybe the point. Perhaps we'll die! And perhaps the camera is telling a kind of truth, a melting kind. The doctor was gentle, speaking thusly, more Bayesian than not, possibly Tibetan. You wonder after how the present is so often composed of wonder! Don't get worked up about coincidence, just keep giving attention until the one reveals herself, saying darling it's this. This this.