Robin Blaser [2016]

Trying to understand this account, as the sun tilts past the center of the sky.  

(I am understanding.)

And I am alone in the living room, with the vacuum and several pairs of 

shoes, listening.

Robin Blaser is out there, somewhere, doing the work.  Or he is dead.

[...]

I've eaten too much something, and my head is the sun, tilting toward 

the trailer park.

Repeat and contemplate, or simply smile, slip into several pairs of shoes, 

and greet a ghost or two.

(This is an anecdote.)  (This is an anecdote.)

Ugh.  Robin Blaser has become his own scribbles, and the living room has 

disappeared into language.

[...]

This is this account.