and worn out with hurricane news and with waiting for news, I find gossip to distract me and think: doesn't matter if it's true or not, not to me who looks for something in the world that doesn't matter as much as death and grieving, and it didn't
--have matter, I mean--
except as a kind of guilty distraction, as in wondering really about the state of someone's bed sheets in the morning, someone you recently dreamt about despite watching yourself carefully around him, her, when the socializing wouldn't allow more, and thinking just don't go there, for example
--I thought Keaton ha you live woman, you rock--
until somebody had to say something weighty about beauty: "But he's 40 and she's 59, and ... isn't exactly wrinkle free in certain areas,"
and then it was a matter of bodies again. Can't get bodies off my mind.
***
View from my study window: hospital roof launch pad across the street. All day today the helicopters land and take off. I've never seen so many in a day. All night the launch pad lights siren through my bedroom window, all colors. The lace on the wall is like water.
