February 1, 1986
floats through McDonald's like a
swan in a bathtub.
through my old journals, I'm reminded that I used to try to write at
least one poem every day. They served the same function as an
illustration — a sketch in the margin — nothing more, nothing less. I'd
jot them down on my lunch break. On February 1, 1986 this haiku
appeared. Not a bridal gown but she was wearing a white dress, white shoes with high heels. Untouchable poise…