Thursday, September 30, 2010


Could my daughter have written a poem? I think so. I took transcription the other night. I might send it to the Boston Review.


Dear Julia,
I wish you could come
to my house. But you can't
because you live in a different
world than I do. You live
in Switzerland and you come
to see us sometimes but I wish
you could see us now. But it's bed-
time already. I guess you got some
sleep already. Bye dear. I miss
you. Bye Julia.
Love, Zazi

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