28.11.02 - 8:27 p.m.

whats a nervous breakdown without a best
friend to tell about it? i tried - we visited
leona in the hospital, bestowed upon her a
felt turkey pillow i had fashioned to look like
a sassy new yorker, aged 72, birkenstock sandals and
a grey permanent. went to city deli for latkes -
celebrating a day early, applesauce, soda didnt
even cheer me up and then parents, dutifully but not
five minutes in the door and a sickly father threw up -
back out like a shot, around the corner hiding, gasping
flushed i couldve lifted a car then pleading, can we
go home please i cant go back in tell my mum please
tell her i wont go back in so she came out
youre flushed, warm too
i am having a panic attack
oh, dont do that, we'll see you soon
and waving as i sank low in the passenger seat put
on sunglasses let hair fall in my face, switched
on public radio and pretended i was in the front row of a lecture on
benjamin netanyahu, how he is somehow more or
less favorable in the eyes of washington
than ariel sharron.
its as good as over no matter what tim says.
silence can really only mean one thing.
im not thankful for anything this year.