two storms last night the first cracked the heat dome but we were sealed in the heat anyway with the windows closed. the storm passed and we got relief but another storm came and woke me up and i ran and closed the windows again knocking into the green rocker. the toilet was flushing itself madly and now it just trinkles and won't flush.

i'm reading parallel movement of the hands, unfinished long poems by john ashbery. i loved him when i was in school, especially some trees and self-portrait in a convex mirror and rivers and mountains and houseboat days. and then i didn't love him so much and i don't know if it was his writing that changed or me, well both i suppose. but i'm enjoying him now again. there's a way of reading where i relax and flow and let the meaning be.