It Was A Small Thing,

It Was A Real Whale, A Photograph Of A Real Whale. I Looked Into Its Tiny Wise Eye And Wondered Where That Eye Was Now. Was It Alive And Swimming, Or Had It Died Long Ago, Or Was It Dying Now, Right This Second? When A Whale Dies, It Falls Down Through The Ocean Slowly, Over The Course Of A Day. All The Other Fish See It Fall, Like A Giant Statue, Like A Building, But Slowly, Slowly.

That Day I Carried The Dream Around Like A Full Glass Of Water, Moving Gracefully So I Would Not Lose Any Of It.

I Guess Like Any Writer Or Screenwriter I'm Alone In My Own World So Much Of The Time That I'm Often Trying To Force Myself Out Of My World. Into More Risk. A Less Controlled Kind Of Inspiration. I'm So Keenly Aware Of How Easy It's Getting To Not Leave The House, With Amazon, Especially.

Some May Say That Such A Girl Is Not Ready For A Relationship With A Man, Especially A Man In His Late Sixties. But To That I Say: We Don't Know Anything. We Don't Know How To Cure A Cold Or What Dogs Are Thinking. We Do Terrible Things, We Make Wars, We Kill People Out Of Greed. So Who Are We To Say How To Love. I Wouldn't Force Her. I Wouldn't Have To. She Would Want Me. We Would Be In Love. What Do You Know. You Don't Know Anything. Call Me When You've Cured Aids, Give Me A Ring Then And I'll Listen.

I Walked Down The Hall And Saw That [she] Was Sitting On The Floor Next To A Chair. This Is Always A Bad Sign. It's A Slippery Slope, And It's Best Just To Sit In Chairs, To Eat When Hungry, To Sleep And Rise And Work. But We Have All Been There. Chairs Are For People, And You're Not Sure If You Are One.