i'm doing some reflection. the numbers drop is incidental to that. i was reaching into other places and trying to grab outside the box so to speak. the blog is primary. 

i dropped paradais the book. only 112 pages but blocks of words without pause and i don't mind if it's faulkner or bernhard but it didn't seem to add up. 

now i read also a poet about frank o'hara. every time i think of frank o'hara i think of the sweet cream white clothbound edition of his collected poems i lost when my brother lost his pop-up flower shop to his bizarre erstwhile partner frank the filthy cop. i remember that and the painting my sister did that i found in the back with black spray-painted breasts. our worldly good were placed in that shop when i debarked to greece. 

anywho it's another day in paradies. i hear kes flying by the window.