let the blog fly like my red balloon...from harlem to mid-west

Last night, again, I passed out around 10.30. My intention in leaving my desk, full of articles and papers and notes and pens and pencils and markers and staples and mugs, was just innocent: to rest my back and then I would get back to my work. My work= writing my paper. But...but I was in the land of nowhere, with a red balloon....in the end. My red balloon flew me over the upstate to the midwest...I was surrounded by smell of spring, wheat and a hot dog:)
New York is freezing since yesterday...and heating in my apartment was totally active by 6am in the morning.
A new movie for the list....
A new poem...not written by me but fits to the context;)
s.

DREAM

My mother died/In a dream/Last night/And my waking up
Crying/ Reminded me/ Of my crying when/One holiday morning/
My balloon/slipped through/ my fingers/And I watched it
Rise/Into the sky.




OVK