Dear Vince,

                                                I hope that you are well
                                                as you can be, that your work
                                                progresses, that you do not
                                                every day fall into the mirror.
                                                There is a great bag of gas
                                                lying sluggishly above me.
                                                They tell me that it burns
                                                brighter than a mayfly's heart
                                                but I do not believe them.
                                                It is quite dim here, and
                                                the clouds are constant
                                                to love's beaches, where
                                                unidentifiable shells appear
                                                hocus-pocus from the waves.
                                                I do not understand the waves
                                                which only come in and go out
                                                and still come in at the time
                                                they actually recede.   Difficult.
                                                Also ( alors, tambien) I must
                                                tell you that the earth itself
                                                orbits counterclockwise
                                                around its primary and widdershins
                                                about its axis.   Today, my self
                                                is both inconstant and retrograde.
                                                I have heard there are those
                                                who pin hopes on tomorrow.
                                                Alas, I have spent all day searching
                                                for those of yesterday: the waves
                                                and the clouds still come in
                                                as if they had purpose, and starfish
                                                gnaw slowly at the reef.