& so again you believe you’re the only one. In a crowd you’re so lonesome you hear the sounds at the edges, the dead leaves, the spokes of a passing bicycle. & to each person you pass you say: “I don’t know you, you are so lucky.” & of course you don’t really say it. Deep inside you are planning your minor renaissance like Marcel Duchamp who made his own rules for chess. Your game will involve a guitar with no strings.
Planet of the Blind 