I learned the other week that my grandfather worked at a power plant when he was a young man. What could this possibly mean? I also learned that Nietzsche was the son of a Protestant minister. I am the son of a Protestant minister. What could this possibly mean? How can you miss a fact? How do you write a poem? Temerity, precipitate, use these words.

During my daily walk around the pond I found a stain. Some type of liquid had been dropped, so I stepped over it. And then on the way back there were two butterflies, one yellow, one black and blue, and a dragonfly admiring it. I see these creatures and it's as if I had forgotten all about the dragonflies at my aunt's pond in Ohio. As if I had no memory at all. I drove into Charlottesville today and picked up several more books to read. I haven't decided what books, if any, to take to Princeton and Las Vegas. I'm leaving in less than a week. I've been compelled to visit these places, not that I'm not going to enjoy myself, survival, staying out of trouble, I keep saying this, over and over.

Re/started reading Selected Writings of Charles Olson and Additional Prose Charles Olson, The Morning Star Kenneth Rexroth, The Book of Repulsive Women and other poems Djuna Barnes, Ballad of the Bones Byron Herbert Reece, Capitale de la douleur Paul Eluard, Prepositions + Louis Zukofsky

Today, I feel as if everything is possible, that beauty is simply waiting to be found.