I am reading. I am reading Ginsberg and Mansfield. Last night I dreamt there was a box of light in my bathroom and I could make plants grow from it. I had a small cardboard field of tomatoes and rosemary---this is what I get for reading the Garden Supply Catalog before bed.

Tonight my sister is sitting by a hospital bed in Boston and wondering if my niece is going to live. My niece is six months old and beautiful. She is six month old and beautiful and has three tumors on her facial bone. Why did I ever read Lucy Grealy?

Once in a writing conference a famous writer said to me, national disasters happen all around me I thought it was an arrogant way to look at the world---to believe you were are the center of everything.

Truth: I believe if I thought about it happening and then it happens I caused it to happen. I believed b/c I read the book and feared for my own children I cause somehow the baby to be sick or b/c after the death of my nephew my mind has never felt safe, our children are never safe. It is a weird disease to be the center---to cause the world to fall off balance.