and what have i been thinking, as i sit on the deck all day, asked the man whose name might have been simian, and what did i answer before the yellow butterflies came around? those butterflies, they must have felt the light, they must live partly part light. and partly part thistle.
so the man who might be simian, he told me to read the very last of tolstoy, as i sat on the deck, and probably i will. and he told me to watch for the history, the history of the land, and i will.
and so many people, all the summer long, all the summer, all the summer, but now it is gone, and now, here, is the fall. it is a fall with a twist, a fall with a wistful twinge of warm dusk air full of grasshoppers and bats.
and what have i been thinking?
well, it doesn’t matter.
