Spiders, spiders, spiders.


Ants, wasps, beetles.


Foggy morning after a very stormy night.

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Last, next.

86: Signs of Spring (Contra Costa Goldfields)
87: Nat’l Parks (Sequoia)

Signs of Spring, Sequoia


Happy 85th to Thomas Pynchon!

I’m not going out today (too much to do at home) so here’s a photo from a previous Pynchon in Public Day—

A copy of Gravity's Rainbow beside an Old Fashioned cocktail

—at the excellent Volstead Speakeasy in (of all places) Eagan.

A wall of liquor bottles behind a bartender mixing a drink

Keep cool but care.


It’s been a busy week.

empty bookshelves

the same shelves full of books


From July to September 2020, I posted pictures of bookmarks I’ve collected over the years. The original posts have returned to my archives, but now they are also all together on a single page here: Bookmarks

Front of Sixth Chamber bookmark


Goodbye, tiny apartment.

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spine poem #9: hay(na)ku

The widening spell
of the
leaves,

my life corrupted
into song.
Pure,

unattainable earth where
now, as
ever,

testimony is music
beginning with
O…

spine poem


spine poem #8

“Spring shade, spring essence.”
Song of the departed stranger.

Music, imitations, illuminations.

To be the poet even in quiet
places: Turtle Island, Flower
Wreath Hill, backroads
to far towns…

spine poem