#530 Le Somnambule

It should have been a one-
pipe problem, Watson, but
my sleep patterns have been
irregular lately, have moved
from the no sleep of cocaine 
use to an ersatz sleepwalking,
full of fear, as if the hound of 
the Baskervilles was hard on 

my heels. I wake, immediately 
reach for another pipe. Have 
lost count of how many I’ve 
smoked in the last few weeks. 
& now I’m having visions, 
will suddenly see an owl in my 
chair, my pipe in its mouth; & 
we have moved from Baker 

Street to somewhere in the 
country. & the owl peers at me
through its saucer eyes, takes
the pipe out of its mouth, looks
down at it & says to me: “This is
not a pipe.” & what it means by
that, Watson, is the problem. Is
beyond my sphere of expertise.

#529 Les Pierreries

So much alike as 
we peer from the
box we could 
pass as brothers. 

But what’s in a 
box is often more 
than just contain-
ment, what reso-

nates can be more 
than beauty is. Gems 
we might some-
times be referred 

to as; but what 
other facets will
be displayed when  
the lid is lifted?

#528 La Joconde (1962)

The slice-of-sky curtain is
center stage — or should
that be center plage? Behind

it are two other curtains, red
this time, ready, when the
bell starts to ring, to move

slightly forward & draw to-
gether to conceal the other &
leave only sand & sea in sight.