My new diurnal phone-charging habit is becoming very tiresome; I was hoping that the little bugger would survive until November but I think I'll have to break down and replace it before then.
Even in the midst of my dream I found myself in a field of wildflowers.
Even in the midst of those flowers I stood alone, like an antenna, like a lighthouse in the ocean.
Even in the midst of that light I felt, deep in my chest, a scared animal's craving for darkness.
Even in the midst of that darkness I could hear the cicadas' song.
Even in the midst of song I remembered that I had been born in a bowl of silence.
Even in the midst of silence the words of my language swarmed around me like flies.
Even in the midst of that swarm I could hear the director shouting Action!
Even in the midst of all that action I managed to take your hand.
Even in the midst of that swarm, that song, that silence, I found the resolve to kiss you.
Even in the midst of that kiss I knew you and I would end up on the cutting room floor.
[Troy Jollimore, 'On Location', from At Lake Scugog: Poems]
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