from montreal

okay so \i dont post every
day are you gonna give me
a hard time\/ am in a french
city with a french internet
connection. my god every woman
with a long cigarette. we ask
directions at the ritz carlton,
which used to be full of white
rhodesians. a man confessed that
he capitalizes his emails to those
who capitalize him. another praises
the stories of anthony doerr,
the shell collector. her flesh
was the colour of a pale leather
belt but then \i saw below her
white top that it was a leather belt.
the door code was simple, two numbers
repeated, something you could read
from thirty feet. there was a bank
of propane you could feel the nuzzle
of, or the smell registered as a
softness. he ruined all his good work
by talking loudly in the smoking room.
she was researching a magazine article
from 1966. it made me realize that
newspaper work was not temporary.
it could be as lasting as a novel.
dismay at that.