it's a matter of nutrition: my impromptu dinner was followed by a flan. that, in turn, spun an idea, to browse, as one might at a flea market, expiring ebay auctions. ô! i link up to antiques, thinking, this will do the trick. ending in a minute, a 1722 french infantryman's military discharge which i am unable to decipher, followed by a 1764 london newspaper that, as the seller informs, is 239 years old (passons, sans le tâquiner: he's been standing here for a year, in a truly anti/que pose.) i skim to the bottom, to find, what a skull!, rare norwegian pattern-weaving book, dated ca. 1900, a must, no doubt, for any budding fiction writer. intriguing, in the french section (wrenched from disection tablets), a 19th-century french silk chenille metallic fringe (with penchant for alliterations). immediately i imagine david antin, sitting there cozy on his silky yet sturdy metallic fringe, or a miniature avantgarde under glass preserved like tropical insects. inevitably, i misread the next sign, plottery & gas, & come to face signed steuben cocktail set, ist er gestorben? am i looking for a fount of youth, ebay promises, right after vague dreams of travel, "everything else, beauty & health," and "more," as imagination fails in ecstasy.
better stick to the taxonomy of lakeshore pebbles, your pocketfuls, broken seashells & ice crystals, wind blue winter, sky rocks, preferred to graphs & prices. ebay is a place where electronic lemurs jump off the cliff of their alotted time.
