Yearbook (10.3)

I later laminated these frames in wax and projected them by jack-o’-lantern light onto the wall, in an attempt to cheer up the king. The incense smells good and the garden is beautiful even in October, with lots of big dahlias, and not overly neat or fancy or spectacular—brooms leaning against the walls, a traffic cone sitting in the gravel, a smallish dented pumpkin at the Kuanyin’s feet. Not “surrealism,” but people may walk up to the screen and enter the movie. Read the sheet of blank vellum between the original and the translation. Scarequotedness is on us like fog. “Should” and “agree,” what dreary notions. So listen to the music of: “39¢.”