It’s now, she says. Now, & never again – so we beat on, boats against the current & swooned slowly, heard the snow falling faintly through the universe. I had been there before, lying on my back, thumbing my nose at You Know Who, which is why I don’t tell anyone anything. If I do, I start missing everybody. Poo-tee-weet said the bird under firebombs & the old man was dreaming about lions. Quién es? said Billy the Kid. Don’t let me drop. There, on the ground under the almond tree, pleasure of simple joys & the happy summer days, borne back ceaselessly into gray – there’s no good way to say goodbye.

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