11,426. ERRATA

ERRATA

So now the nurse comes, when they've

already cut off my arms and strung up

my neck. What good is this now, I want

to know? I hate losing people. They just

disappear. Got names and got tangles, and

then I never hear. There's a lonesome sparrow

in that nearby tree, one of those Winter singers,

I'm really not sure which. But it does go on.

-

If I wanted to live at the water's edge, this 

would be a very good spot. But I'm done

with all that. Did it once already. Lived

like that in Waverly, NY, right where the

waters ran  -  small fossils could be found

in the stream. We'd walk it all the way up

to the highlands above, just to see what 

we could find.

-

My favorite thing became the ice on the

water and over the rocks  -  a peculiar sort

of surface ice, beneath which the gurgling

water still ran. The ice itself was thing and

clear, like rippled glass. I figured, if it could,

it must have froze in motion. That's what it

seemed like, though it's a difficult concept.

But what's not, in this stupid life.

-

We take the consequences of what we can.

The rest, we just make things up about, and

go on. Well,anyway, OK. Tell the nurse I'm

done. I'm probably bleeding to death anyway,

the pain has become excruciating, I'm probably

talking to much, and this knotted rope around

me neck is now just too much. Kick the chair

out from beneath me. Please, go ahead.