Eight hundred miles for you.
eight hundred miles for me.
what can i say?
it's not so hapless.
it's not so harsh.
i can take it.

So i sit on the porch and i listen to traffic.
i read the paper. this is water. this is wood.
this is your living room. this feels good.

Half fiction, half documentary.
i'm right on. no. i don't know.
there is distance more than miles.
but our ideas are adjoining canals.