fall...ing four floors isn't enough to kill someone.

what's four floors? a quarter second. a turn of a page. a whisper of breeze carrying browned leaves of unsaid stories.

did someone really fall four stories to the ground?

this weekend i have to get my butt to a store to get a shelving unit with wheels. and then i can put away my new books and clothes. and then i can move on with the rest of my life.

in kalamazoo, michigan on the bus back to chicago, i noticed a house painted goldenrod yellow, the kind of yellow annoying announcements for university organizations are copied on so people will notice, the kind of paper you pass out that contains a poem or two to remind your students these words have note. they automatically turn away from goldenrod yellow because the natural red of maples entices them more, the way the one tree turned first before all the others, making them wonder if trees do talk to each other and race each other and show each other off and if the homeowner with the goldenrod yellow house realizes that his back yard maple tree's decided to turn ahead of the others.

the bus passes the neighborhood and it is the end of the block. goldenrod yellow sears the edges of my eyes. i try not to think of the canadian books i could have purchased had i been given the chance. i'll have a better idea where to lodge all these stories once i get my shelf with new wheels.   ¶ 10/07/2004 03:46:00 PM