Today (while Joseph kept saying "silver lining"
and the man sitting next to Valerie at the PC user's meeting
had a bad hairpiece
and elsewhere on Arts Wire,
Bill tried to locate a copy of the Republican contract),
I encountered two men with white hair -
one was a bad painter from Vermont
and the other was drinking Peet's coffee on a bench on Solano Avenue.
While I was waiting for a taxi, he left on a ten-speed bicycle.
Using one of my ten taxi vouchers,
I went home in a yellow cab and faxed an orthopedic surgeon.
(looking for an opinion)
Although a fixed disk failure on my 286 obliterated his responses,
there was a letter from an excellent plastic surgeon in the mail.
"I would be very much interested
in any photographs that you may have of your legs, side by side,
in a standing position, from front to side."
As I leaned over to remove the ants
from the catfood dish in the kitchen,
Film at eleven.