Misc. on a Rainy Warm Day

"I wish I could sleep in a state of suspension," I said to Blue the other morning, rubbing my aching hips. "Like I was weightless."

"You want to be in the womb," he pointed out: yep, once again, I've turned into my baby. I just want to lie on my back and watch mobiles and eat pureed squash.

Except I don't. I miss reading poetry. I want to walk for hours in a city. I want to go to New York on the bus and see art. I want to go to Miami and dance. I want to go to Budapest and drink cappucinos again and watch people walk down the sidewalk past the old buildings with the bullet holes.

Party Shuffle has brought up It Takes A Nation of Millions. I tell Blue I want to go to Harvard Square and
be inside and outside at the same time
I play Television Man
make apple pancakes and fakin' bacon for breakfast
woke up to the baby making a tip tap tip tap on my right side, along the side of my belly pushing into the bed. Little points, tip tap tip tap
I run my hand down baby's back, pressed against my belly button
Like a shooting star across my belly
A foot or a hand streaks across
An elegant sighting

Inside and outside at the same time