The Autumn Man

It's cool out here.  Some dedicated girls are still wearing little shorts.  Some people still have tans.  I just bought two jackets and I put on a sweatshirt for the first time in about six months.  Almost everyone else has new jackets too.  The fruit flies in my house are off-putting but soon they will be dead.  They have sex when they are one day old.  I see some people less because they go to school and I am continuing in a straight line.  The summer was so long it felt that we were parallel but we were tangent.  Either they are in a loop or I am.

One of our wars are over and many people have not noticed.  I wonder what that means.  What do the soldiers do when they get home?  I sold a guy a copy of In Our Time by Ernest Hemmingway.  He had very short hair and I wondered if he was a returning soldier and I didn't tell him that was a bad choice to read if you are a returning soldier.  I don't have much else to say about wars or soldiers.

I'm going to smoke one cigarette a week on Wednesday nights.

Jerrod Johnson is having a poetry reading tomorrow at Iron Stone Cafe on Wisconsin and Broadway.  If the last one was any indication of this one, it will be smashing.  Please go.  Bye everyone.