Yesterday and laughs and dreams, what good is bread when I am hungry, and why should I ask such a question when I don’t expect an answer. A bird perches on a fence and I can’t tell you if it’s happy, I don’t know if it’s laughing, or if it’s talking. What is the use? Where is this place? I don’t understand. Why is some bread good to eat when gingerbread is lying in the street, and birds pretend they don’t see me, throwing it on the ground.
June 1972