We have a gas heater in the living room.
I’m going to sit out there and proofread
WAKE UP: CHRISTMAS IN PARKER,
then I’m going to make a backup DVD.
I printed it out, double-spaced, but I don’t have
any place to send it. At least it isn’t 20 books.
It’s one. A culmination of what I was doing.
A ne plus ultra. A platonic example.
A summing up. College, work, the small,
desktop computer. The Internet.
The small press movement, mail art.
A
Burn my manuscript to keep warm,
like the artists in La Bohème.
I chose this life.
You goddamn
complainer.