Losing them, fixing them, forgetting to put them in
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Crete, Sunday School, a room full of Rembrandts
Seth Speaks, Breakfast of Champions, The Miracle of Love
A pituitary tumor, a shot of thorazine, the flu
Like a horse, to attain a state of high performance, to achieve a balance somewhere between the need and the desire
Kite-flying, spaghetti, the sound of moving water
In the tall broomsedge, in a nearly finished new house, in a tent
Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh, Mrs. Allen, Guru Maharaji Ji
The world, the remains of ancient Thera, Stonehenge
My fear of my father, my piano, my unsuppressible nomadic tendencies
Dogwood blooms scattered along the path looking like unreal party decorations; wonderfully visible auras of soft neon; hearing the one note that we and all we sense are merely harmonics of
Waiting for the angels, chopping the head off a chicken, building a house — twice
Agency fees, electric shocks, “chronic” customers