i'm doing my best here. wait, am i doing my best? i'm sitting at the place r. cleared on the table where i used to sit but she's not there where she always sits. she's sitting with frances in her house. how do you know if you're doing your best? if there is peace i guess. when i was about eight we lived in a subdivision in what was called mount zion illinois. they were digging more subdivisions around us and i found some objects of the people who lived there before, the indigenous ones. i'm feeling something of that zone of displacement living in the place of displacement, when i look at the arduous progress of the obamachron. i'm feeling the sinking feeling along with a tenuous gratitude for existence.