| edged out 10 part 7 - 1985 april-may | work & days: a lifetime journal project |
April 2 1985 Clock said 7:40. Waking again after distress night. Phone is C, was thinking of her. From 12 two coffees, hunger again. It's quarter to 6. "She must be very afraid." Yes if I can keep seeing. "I am sometimes not strong enough." My friend's ill, dark under the eyes. She says something's broken in her. "I don't think about diseases, what I think is that I'm dying." The way so many of us are ill. What tone of lies telling with her - bragging as if what she has to hear is that some get away. Being afraid to be caught by the language of curators - "What they want from me is to know my frame of mind" - "I'd like you to use these in your work" - going to be very careful how I look at them - "I'm not mad at you, I love it when I do see you" - speck of tear. Yesterday the floods of tears, many times beginning again. She got me on money. When I have secrets I can be got. That delight of telling her the poet's house, without saying who first lived there. And that it went on into despair - the place where contradiction is standing across every direction. I feel I have to leave, I let down a pour of tears because there'll be no love or connection again, only bleak on-going, again, beginning again. The phone - I think it's M [my mother] - it is - "I knew it was you" - her father's resilience - I say only, listening to the voice that will by tomorrow be guarding shock and shame, "I have a surprise for you too." 3 Friday - find In a canvas tent to bring home, conceal on the top shelf. Sunday night the poet's house, Monday crying, Weds his card written on Monday. Coming out from behind the curtain, "You better sit down." [I spring my 7 months pregnancy on my mother] 4 Not able to say, while she's in the house, I hated her in that. Being guilty-nice. She went dead-grey, sat staring at the floor. In the bath sitting in a few inches of water. Kicking over the flowers then scrubbing to soak water. Not eating as much fruit as she wants. I don't let myself show dismay with her at all - arch over her, instruct, talk fast and hard not to let into me her sacrificial greed. Faced with that, her daughter showing a belly with a baby, what does she have, she was refusing to rejoice. She has, that if she rejoices, her teachers will have lied. Is it that - what do I know - she was shocked, she was angry, for her it was an attack on her - disgust - she doesn't say someone's coming, she says this one won't be mine either. What does she want. She doesn't say are you alright? She wants to say, but doesn't, because then she'll have to know, How dare you, on welfare? Disliking this one who has to be so on the run from death. Remembering the moment when T and I looked at each other: she's tedious isn't she. Getting the dislike without the countervoices saying but she .... She bows her head and asks god to tell her what to do. He loves nature not for selfish pleasure she says, but to communicate with others. Her garbled old head. "Who will look after me when I'm old?" I'm saying, so kill yourself when you get old, don't blight the only lifetimes of the rest. Then what I did - I sent her to Jam - who was weak and absorbed it. Called and thought M was maybe lost in shock - I imagined her killed - that guilt and satisfaction in black West End.
In her presence: am I responsible for Rudy being lost? Am I responsible for Walter being lost? "... not what the neighbours think, it's what I think." Saw it was true. Doris Lessing's hate. "Not one of my grandchildren I can rejoice in." What! What can you possibly want! A reptile. - To be young again. Did she go grey, did I go on about the discomforts - she said twice, the nightmares about pregnancy - because there's an actual time-cheat possible this way? Patting her onto the bus, byebye. A toad spirit. But the slides, she in a beautiful bed, they on the wall, both yawning, the hyacinth scent, tulip points, pink and yellow Turkestana turned back, she sits with her legs apart so I see right up to the fur - the slides scarred and dirty, windows, marvels, but showing isn't seeing, I'm a foot - seeing a little - magical dimming. Al's revenge - "I hear all the gossip" - drunk - "Is that what you wanted?" - "No it's not what I wanted" - prevented from saying something effective because the little is listening. and that talk was his complete surrender to another person, attention, penetration, not taking his eyes off the face and soul of another person Time to get wider, yes. 5 Cold Friday, the sun. Party heard through the window. Into the garden, working soil, grimacing, why, at (not) being alone. Leah this morning. J told her I was starving last summer - "When this society raises welfare by $300 as soon as there's a child it encourages ..." - confabulating - "Ellie is the most cruel person" - "He will think she's doing it to kill him." [ie my dad] Tsvetaeva's Max and Bely, she found. The bright house, clean it, cut my hair, in case friend will be in my house, knowing to be my friend - maybe not.
A lovely sound. Maybe only wanting a backing back - I'll throw the card away - twig letters among [sketch of Robert's handwriting] - but I think this time we'll be smiling at the door. "I assumed it was written by a woman" M said. A garden, moving some earth that was under a tree, began wanting to weed and separate a corner of the bed where small plants grown too close - today by the sage and woodruff, forgot where the intention began - the earth from under the tree swept sideways, bed built up quite high. A huge yellow garbage truck, how do I get that high to tip it - there's a ramp, three storeys, but at the top, as if slippery, a round corner, I can't - handing to the man up there, trying to reach it up - (the hugely tall cab with riders) frightened to fall - do I - to where the jaw rolls down and back - looking into the long throat deep as a ferry's - when the clamp is farthest back we see we can dash in under it, to the safe rooms at the uvula - and then I almost lose it - something about going into a room or wanting to, or being in it and someone from outside, or people busy, or a glass window between rooms. J scolding about being sexual. She and M agree. Freud's doctrine about repression she says. Wants me making reparation in Mary's family. "Flouncing your ponytail" because I'm angry. Now I'm angry at both. You - told her you'd only come back because I was sick. 6 Do the images control. Is it the image of the old heavy one, makes me ill. Does she downstairs every morning work some hours to magic an image for the rest of the day. Was it an image of me gave C that ionized beauty and in dope, the mirror? Crossing streets without cars, cold and warm, the long view of empty roads, it's very early. Down the dock and off the end strong geese, two on pillars, one on the edge of a concrete pool. Shouting commands. It's the sea. I know it by looking at it falling deep from the end of rubble fill. The morning morning. The early summer. Creosote. How can posts sway. The garden this day draws the hiding neighbours too. Taking small self-seeds to the good end. Finding a lot of motherwort. Some of it, the valerian, I like. Moving bee balm from where it looks trod. Baring mint buds. 7 The heart muscle tight drawn: I won't have it. [money calculations] weekly milk 8, eggs 1, bread 2, meat 21, cheese 3, fruit and vegetables 15 laundry 3. busfare, stamps.
Legs and face swollen, third day. At night waking so anguished I have to phone - crying because of being here in labour alone - and that if he comes I'm too ugly now to move true, and too stiffened. She talks. I'm lying in the kitchen with the telephone. "I'm so full of bitterness." The room gets light. I say she has to say whether at all she feels it's for her too. Who gets to feel crisp and who has to be soggy. By aft she's not willing to say. The Seymour sun festival of bodies. Our slope with tricks - trickles - a dry bit of hemlock shred - the scent. 9 Still dark 3:30. I miss wind-riding. So long without. Morgain. Judy sent it to M. She to tell me. When the poplar leaves opened I was their priest. Rainwater cup. Dark red robe. We are well crossed. Many small blues. Vinca, aubretia, the very vivid and the lighter. Hyacinth. Filiform veronica. Primula. White arabis. Narcissus. Scarlet tulip, lotus tulip. Balsam leaf, curly ---. Strong woodruff. With money buying food, will-strength. Fruit changing my face. Basils on the west sill. Doors and windows standing open. 10
11 Dragon and kid "We are the three and together we make up the goddess" Hillman the image of the event as it occurs
If the plants (and possible fish) are taken to be seasonal and storied signs 13 "My father and I have a spirit battle going on. We don't wish each other well." Negotiating in an unstable field. His series of old moves, what does he seem to want: any drawing out of young feeling toward him. What do I know: to hold neutral and get information.
It's Saturday and why 15 Sunday. Even when bright so weak and stupid. Couldn't garden, squatting and sun's heat made me faint. J slight body. Imagining going to the desert, I talk about knowing it's somewhere forward of a bad vacancy, guilty nothing. Will it go on like this - is there an effort to make - is it because I'm wrongly attached - have I died into a very wrong old age by living wrong - is it by some lie - now she's kindly when I'm reduced to nothing - when I was a live torrent she couldn't - Michael sitting on the floor with his face in my shoulder taking the smell - why so long there's no mental energy where there was so much - can't read Graves - three Ruth Rendell from Carnegie, it's the first I've sunk to crime fiction, is it final leveling - will I only be ugly now - am fat ass and leg, flesh looking like Mary's, doughy, mottled - is this body change going to stay the way it does in other mothers - the wordless stand-off very noticing with scrawn Rhoda - not hostile but sustained holding off girly downstairs - indifferent care of Ezra who's neutral too, speaks when she needs something, lay nearby on the damp grass when I did to look at the star points flying in steady formation beyond so luminous clotty frayed cloud. Rendell, Theroux, any England. Garden. Poplar leaves' scent at the turning-in, arabis mixed with thick veronica, or vinca - with the tulips - a few hyacinth - the small drift of narcissus under the dogwood shrub unopened leaves like butterflies lit - plum tree this year many buds, with the leaf buds, green and white not like an ornamental - starling this morning hauling a long bunch of hay - the street cherries past their pink in a less homogenous fog maroon and green. [Michael] In a green sweater and green wool toque beard feathery mixed color, small eyes, round lip, with garbage bag and bent spade - I make him promise he won't brag - he knows it's because I'm ashamed of him, and because of R, but not the rest, that it's hatred of how he can seem to have done it to me. Dirk said "Are you living together?" He said no. Twisting his body: "Then I don't have anything to stand on." I'm heartless. "Yes you do, you have this," the oval around his body. "I'm not ashamed of you, I'm ashamed of the - incompleteness." 16 Looking over the bridge to spring flotsam small square sticks, a bedstead. I could go into the creek bush, to that spruce by the pond. The damp path. The dry room under the spruce. Though I'm myself now I could live there, I could cut the paths, not from the road, but back a bit, invisible. In the house looking through the kitchen window at the hill, rich black and brown spring ground - myself reflected in the glass, black pants, brown sweater, my mother saying suit me, then, not able really to see the hill anymore - moving a hole in the sweater that was showing nipple - only fragments of reflection, saying "In five minutes the light changes so much ." A red-cheeked pear on ice, my father must have found when snow melted. Diana's nice party. C Josie Paul and Marie-Paule and Claudia. Diana and how she looked and felt, small ribs, yellow thighs. Josie in red socks listening to the story of Michael. How many she can gather in her nice house. 17 When I dream Luke it may be the new one.
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19 Friday [Robert comes through town on his way to tree planting on Vancouver Island and has given up speech] "I need [woman symbol] so much." "Ellie it is you who are the sad one." The cat who advanced pulling back. "Wren is wonderful!" Watching the words come onto the chalkboard slow enough to guess and be wrong and enjoy the unknownness of the end of the sentence. "Is there something else you're supposed to be doing?" "Yes." "Do you know what it is?" "Yes." "Are you going to do it?" "Yes." Yesterday aft, lying down in the time closest to sleep, saying, this isn't going to make any difference to me at all. And that being surprisingly the thought that made the mattress quake. Today's sleep the phone, Sara, "It's lovely to talk to you." Beginning a slow voice so I feel her stunned - the way she phrases as if listening to herself - "I'm frightened" - several times - such a mania released - he had the kids and he didn't bring them back when he said he would - "I used to feel the possibility of murder." "I have some quite shocking news to tell you." "Well I'm wai-ting." "Oh Ellie that's a-may-zing." "Luke sat in the front seat with me all the way." Cumbria. "At least you've got a car." "And I can bloodywell drive it too!" "Roy was talking about some little thing you'd done, it was a very small thing, I said 'I can understand why she did that' and he flew into a rage. He can't stand it if he thinks I've gone over to the other side. The people who've gone away from him. He knocked me onto the stairs." 20 Coming to the top of the rutted road I see wild cats, bobcats, on the grass fucking. The he is over the she who's lying on her belly calmly, he's slowly in and out, it's calm and exquisite. Another couple of them. Maybe another. I'm climbing up onto the bank to see them. 21 Not sleeping. It isn't feelably desire, it's just going on being with you. The morning face is old and strange, eyes aren't grey crystal they're glaucous, absorbant like grape or cloud. Long looking. To ask: was it that you wanted me? I am not going to say. His hands aren't listening but mine are. I won't quarrel about that now. I'm standing in what I am. The blue length, a train of hair. Both feet down the stairs naked, look if you want. Ezra has taken off. It's brilliant Sunday, before morning. From kissing once, oh, try that again, stepping into the empty street, a grey Oldsmobile and a Chinese father, I step back but he does a comic swerve. He meeting of the sight of him beginning a journey, a her come out of the house, on three faces enjoyment of the particulars of the joke. Pussy Willow. Sure. In the blue room standing. "I take what I can get, like with ..." - is he going to say that - "... women." "I don't believe it, I think you're quite choosy!" The door in the wall miming opening, fleeing. I was still with feeling for the constellation of what I said. Last night how had it come different, from the night and day alone? From the arriving up the stairs quiet and at home, less face-collapsed. "Mm-hmm." Was that what he meant, spoke to first? Not premeditated. In silence alone hearing the voice. "You helped me." "I liked it too." Shearing off past to say: but it did evade. A coming home touch fine-balanced from both sides, then clear people not grimacing all evening. Talking by the stove. Roy downstairs where they're hearing the guitar. The door opens downstairs, is it J?, when I go look a slight body inside the door, shoulders, flashes around and runs, followed out, cars for the dance at the Ukrainian Hall, I think a young boy robber. Telephone - bips - "Hi Luke" - oh sober and depressed - my voice sometimes echoes - I have to tell him - [R] goes downstairs just at the right time so I can say from the bathroom floor, "I'm going to have a baby in June, I thought you would be shocked" - "I am surprised," quite flat and sane. Rings [J]. "Luke just hung up." "There's no reason to be anxious about you?" "There's no reason." Saying it knowing what it promises, but quiet. Then. Oddly. Sitting not hearing a shape in the music, in candle light knowing but not looking at the stopped shape of the man in the black and white shirt like yours, and yours in the sky slide, sitting with it, in this evening came a dissolve of love like a permeating light, does anything follow from it or not, I notice it isn't greedy anymore, or sharp. I'll go out with Ezra, and why do I stop to pee in the grass - and he come to the window, head and shoulder shape looking out my window, and I scramble up my pants and take off - does he see - with Ezra to the park. And come in, running bathwater, to fetch from the closet - oh! body there in the dark, meeting at the closet door, do you think I came to claim you, bodies confront, my right arm opens the door and takes out, by feel, the cotton thing. 22 "I think I am what she was aiming for" [I say of my early self] "How can you say that? It's so positive." "I betrayed him." Shocks, taken as final. Feeling at the same time my system and maybe his where a final betrayal is possible. "I spoke. All I could say was I don't know." "You're mad at yourself aren't you." "I think you are mad at yourself." He cries. "Howl." But for him it's that I've won and then he has to get even. "Ellie you are the one who is sad." Is it me? It might mean --- or ---, I'll take it to the nearer. I say "No. I don't think so." He says "Both of you answered that." That was probably the subtlest he came and I wasn't there steady to see it. As with the wall door. slowed down usually by something I've left indefinite. This morning long enduring and then numen and nomen. Ah! Being able for myself to see in the fine dark where we rarely reach - immediate seeing and not wanting the diversions. Telepathy. "You can get lost in it." "I think we're lost in it already." Long not practicing mind. 'My art', its trace.
thinking is moving in space I went on talking to you the little kisses are closed doors What's the dream - a supermarket a mile long - checkout down the other end, a horrible exit, women in a circle tight enclosed by yellow drapes, this is the architecture now. A small room; common room, I'm unfolding, refitting furniture, a bed with red silk gold line grid spread. 23 Her new house, through the back windows, a forest! We're there early morning. the tenants are in their bedroom. Through the west window a sheet of water! Lake or pond. It is at the end of the bus line after it turns north. Connected to it, meeting Luke, imagining him living in that neighbourhood, junior high, the adults don't turn off the machines so much, he was looking at his movie and the sound of a heartbeat by moonlight. C dreamed: going into the corridor seeing someone walk down it, is it me, she catches up, it's Luke a forty-five year old man crying. He says "You were so mean, you were so mean." She gives him kisses. Offers a hundred dollars toward his fare. 24 "I'm a zombie." The snake deity. A corpse reactivated but still dead. Bantu fetish. A dead snake. An object believed to have a spirit in; an object given intense attention. A dead thing that has life in it: for instance a memory. A mental form. All those symbol madnesses. A dead thing regarded as alive. You're a fetish to me? ie I feel you though your touch is dead - burn the images. What dead thing have you put your life in - many. A past. He looked backward. She'll still be there. You don't know that. Love-images
1. they betrayed him (= I betrayed = I let myself be betrayed = I didn't fight. "Do you think she would have stayed if you'd fought her?") I wanted to change but when I was in actual new feeling and knowing and seeing I was in terror that I was abandoning the one I had been until then. I said it to her. I am afraid to abandon the one I started out as. She said "She'll still be there, you don't know that." I said I was terrified that I would cause my own death. I saw that the one who was afraid was not the whole one: it was the new one. And she had died.
When you say "I betrayed him" does it mean, I am at this moment betraying him. May 1st Saturna. In the bathhouse in the dark, after supper, seeing the light on the water paler blue in zones smooth or choppy, the smooth stroke lines horizontal, the choppy dabs dilated swarming. In the bathhouse pouring water over. Coming out to the precinct where the branch spreads so long in moonlight seeming blossom. Sitting naked on grass while she puts on her boots. Bodies very well and warm. About the afternoon in late spring when a storm with thunder and lightning came. She took a picture of the cooking brick. "An immanence." "I wanted to stay there forever." And thanking as if it and this, my gift, so in the bedroom in the sleeping bag it's content, warm. May Eve. Sauna was the Beltane, then white mattress on the slope, completely still, cliff, tree giants, in the shadows it's night but the open is day of another sight. No bird. Whole trees. Up the path Monday carefully puffing, come to the bench stone on the path, sitting listening, birds on the other side of the bend, undisturbed, looking around, at the slope ahead of my eyes, after a time eye slides, she standing where the path comes round, the rock amah - in Chinese jacket purple pantaloons cotton slippers white socks, with hands braced on knees - slender traveler with keen face - sitting next on the way-rock kindly talking about his book - soup vegetables cooked mussels ready in water. anik brother First night having a fit, I'm afraid there will never be any. I liked it terrifically, that's why I got desperate. Strong tugging on both. "The way you pull up your sweater and the way you part your legs." "When did you know I was?" "When you were in the wheelbarrow." "The way I was looking at you." Contract full intimacy with the Stranger within thee 2 Dream from yesterday outside. I wake outside to Michael on the mattress - asking quickly about planting, how's your spacing. A door, the man says M's behind it with --- another man in 20 minutes they'll make love. Then it's J I see with two young men. The older man's place open outside kitchen cupboards some of the blue doors open to garden. This night seeing an apartment looking at the ocean, near the one I have - knock to see if it'll be empty, $500.
If our whole science is imprinted by water-nature Our whole epistemology by enclosed-being where's to extrapolate to Project (those values of a magnitude or function that lie beyond the range of known values) on the basis of values that have already been determined Diotima hetaira Titania The way women do complex double-accounting when they're in men's structures, because self-figures and other-figures both apply. The engine by which apples and mussels are turned into baby en-gyne There plant eyes The here-after 5 Even my nose is fat. Arms cut off when I sleep on them. Lying down, sore feet - flashes at the cervix, maybe. Sore bashing when he turns. Small skin growths on breasts. Open mouth working breath. Leg like the worst log legs of stupid poor people. Some days feet and face fat with water. 6
165 [pounds] 7 2 am. The way it's going on as if spirit battle was lost. Still wanting to recoup, or think I have, sulking, hiding, holding a refusing pose. Still in doubt about what happened when I thought it was testing, failing, and being eliminated. The border clashes when some failure or change is being felt fought grieved. And then it goes on. The puzzle of this baby. Feeling the wrong for it of not wanting it - even here, of having a record he may read of my saying so - his begetting ugly - most of his time sick and mindless. He is seeming to be for Jam, but so reluctantly except when she's directly supporting it. Depressive and sullen. Something to say about Michael - what's it like with him - a skinny bearded man with brown face and worried white forehead. Sometimes the warm flow but refused. The rest is dead.
8 When I'm reading through the last-judgment birth fantasies I'm still forward to the man telling me I guessed right. Sarah, short grey hair cut pointed, and Margaret, I think, excited living. The sebaceous - on the back of the neck - what it does. [sketches of wood furniture] 9 Waiting for RM, not telling J I am, seeing the unsaid making her crazy. A hardness recalling the time I was. She calls from Kits, I'm to come help her load the taxi. She's furious I won't. Alright a taxi. (Fat slob sitting watching TV.) The beautiful house on so much land, dirt so damp and grainy, plants filling everything in this year, garden cleared to the back, the windows onto bright floors. We go to Wall Street. This dump. She sells a fireplace. Paid-for, 160 thou minus commission, tax, realizes what, 40? Less? Buying a dump for 10r plus renovation cost for years, flurry, that she has 700 per month to come up with - interest at. The come-down and yet the light in the streets, sheets of water. The kiwis dead. 10 Yesterday early brightness. Awake and ready. In the garden transplant the few then on the bike finding the parallel streets. Small square carpeted room warm in light. She arrives in ugly mien I have to be mumsy with. When after eating we're digging adjacent and I can want to talk about my mythologies the multivalence of elements, they mean something different from all different directions, and the garble of syntax, it's just random - (wanting to save past times). It's the old way of admiring (but is she overarching and about my thesis, "She's more interested in her sexuality than in the subject, I couldn't read it because it was so familiar").
Mysteries - what were John Guri (prepare a place) and RM in the story of the coming boy. 20th - the fat woman, Seiburt, children eyes narrow slant blond heads - her fat body replaces me - the chimney on fire 11 The overlayers - Luke journal / Eton St / last summer and now 12 What is pattern Morgain Mór Moran Mór Thonos What I've been working on - what can I do to become able to see it Anxiety and hurrying on - (thorough chewing, presentation)
13 bp 145 I need to understand the year. 15 Yesterday - north of London crossing high up through a brick, pink, rubble field or box, coming out on a high rolling moor with dark red heather on the slopes - ecstatic - there are a boy and a little girl, going with them into a door, but where are they, the corridor moving in wedges so that we're separated, moved along along. -
The most of it was: saying I'd won my way quite far out of that stoical endurance and blankness and she too with the book. 16 Going out after telling about Corky Day, my sister in the dance with her little girl, she's old, Michael's left her, she's haggard, blanched, her bum is dragging. We're the only people left in the dance. When I came home last night something dark in the corridor - my tent - ie he's back and won't go. Running cold water in the sink, turning on the bath, going into the back room, hearing the water crashing, my wires crossed the sink and bath, bath isn't turned on, cold water is pouring to the floor and through.
Looking is one way, speaking is another. Most of what he says doesn't reach me. I am concealing. "Five or ten minutes." He wants to tell his marvelous story of first naming. Stone. Moss. Mother. And doesn't know what it means. Banana split and garden, T on her steps looks swollen like me. Michael in summer shirt looks deliberately closed as he never has. A pang seeing my hatred arrive in them. I back up to the wall and he comes close to say goodbye, wants to say I helped him begin talking, I don't understand and can't bear it, "Go well." I mean, go, now. Midwifes, Maureen, Gale Grey, I like talking to both of them but it doesn't come to anything. My sense contradicts. St Paul's, Gabor Maté. Being afraid this time, not knowing if it's because it's wrong with Val. Hatred and spite. Bitter. J panicking about her house. 18 Clean house, enough cups, washed windows, phlox, pot luck, usual afternoon sound. She's big and strong with large strong waves coming off her head. [midwife J is paying for] Downstairs and from the porch see her first passing the apartment windows opposite, she's still in the corridor, then again, and then she emerges. Gropp. It's not the sweet direct. She's another body not careful of her shape or speech. But when alone, an aquiline, a grey eye and black and bone, she can refine. "Do you think she sees you?" "She allows me." J neat and slim in clean clothes. "I'm afraid I won't be there." Lying together without heart we're kind. What is it the way I shake. Not wanting to be feeling what I might be if I were - Her body's lovely and I don't feel it, but old despair it won't feel me if I do. She and I in a boat, are not where we think we are, we're further south and do we have time to reach anywhere, is it a storm? Doesn't look like it to me. We land where we think there's a --- but there isn't, it's like an old station. We've flown out, my things, sleeping bag and a suitcase are still on the boat or in the hostel, I go back alone for them - the boat there, moored, under snow - a strange woman in it gather old stuff from Saturna, some baby clothes, plants, but my other actual luggage is still somewhere else. 20 Apple fast. I sit. She says a helpless longing to be with me. I say I'll come. Ezra stays outside. It is a strange feeling. She likes her house. At mine Michael comes crying from a dream, sore heart. We've been on a path together, the three of us, he to some others, he doesn't understand why there have to be three fathers. I know I'm going to let myself be soft with him this time. Hold his hand when he cries. Though in fright that it will be trouble with her. I'm going to hold him too, because this isn't the time to forbid. What do I want. To rest. It isn't love, though looking at him was. It is resting without being afraid of my absence. She phones. We go to Stell's and tour the land. We go to Woodlands and I tell her and she looks like she'll bolt. We go to EJ Murray. We pack and cry. We go to W.6th for the big sage and other. We see Angela has done away with our path and small plants. We go back to Woodlands. I cry. She said he isn't Thon anymore and she shouldn't be there for the birth. I cry while she gets nut trees at Stell's. The basket from Renee I'm not able to refuse. I forget it in the van, she brings it after. Then the crying at Stell's, I'll have it alone, maybe I'll die, probably I won't. Then it will be a clutch, just me and him. Or I'll see who turns up.
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