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6 8 s e p t e m b e r m o o n —ooops! gosh. Trying to stop being paranoid about e-mail surveillance— Barley moon before the wedding looks like Mrs. Noah’s lifeboat: one more ride; you who are here, you who survive, apache tomorrow, throw down the braided rope; be by my side— au g u s t m o o n A bridesmaid smile sliced heaven, a shyness held inside the harpist’s clause; the groom stood indented in his neon cavern; & hesitant before eternity, joy stood under the arch— ...

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