Too much contemplation!

Must have woke up several
times between yesterday and
          my 3:15.

Silly the way I conduct myself.

JOURNAL OF A MAN WHO BRUSHED
WOODY ALLEN. Came within 15 feet
of Woody Allen yesterday.
yes, a small man.
yes, very old.
he fills us up with his
stories—
he is a man with much to do
          before he dies

          rainwater

                    flows fast the periodic
          element table stationed near
                    6 dransk [?]—
                    is there such a place?
                    my instincts are rapidly
          losing thought.

          will there be more fuel?

I've got Faith.
when asked if he ever gave up,
Faith
          he replied shy
Faith          I've got Faith.          
          Yeah, she said.

a life lived
love lost and beaten into another
          shape

JOURNAL OF AN ARTIST WHO HAD NO ART.
There must be something you can do,
said the recruiter.
I can put myself into my art, he replied.
A noise and a crash.
shuffling feet           voices

JOURNAL OF WOODY ALLEN SIGHTINGS
He was being interviewed
   there was a camera
      and a crowd around him
I walked around the mall to get
   a better view—
he turned and headed into the theatre
   ready for his screening
I didn't get to see his face
          but knew it was him
you do not mistake Woody Allen