Poetic Adumbration

(my thoughts on this post have been wrecked, just as I read of a one ton bomb dropped on the residence of an extremist, won't the effects of such overtake the risk inherent?)

It is a new year. I slept quite solid, my last dream was of sitting in our living room with Michelle Obama, I told her that the tragedy of the last eight years could be understood institutionally, by which I meant literally, in the cases of Guantanamo, of Walter Reed, maybe even of the New Orleans Convention Center. We needed to understand that. She was very gracious in response. I think my wife approved. I went out on our front porch the President-Elect was napping in a porch swing (we don't actually have one) and I didn't wish to disturb him. I walked outside and was picking up leaves when the Secret Service guys parked out front left their car. In my dream they looked more like private detectives than Treasury-sanctioned bodyguards. They asked if there was a convenience store nearby and i asked them if they wanted anything to drink. They were very friendly and inexplicably there was Mountain Dew in our fridge which I distributed appropriately. I thus awoke pleased with life. I went to the Y and chatted with Ed. I returned and my wife and i have been discussing the richness of it all while Tomasz Stanko plays in the background. She is dashing ahead in The Intuitionist while I have discovered the charming midriff of Possession. I was somewhat indifferent for a few chapters after the stellar opening. I am at p. 190 although we are poised to go use gift cards somewhat later.