Listening to Diana Ross “I’m getting ready for love,” and typing job applications, I realize my feet are cold—and the damn commercials—so I change the station and get some socks on, and in this momentthe Goddess Selket on my wall is unashamed, exactly as she is, in plain confession as each of us should be, me, you my friends, radio, typewriter, desk, cup of tea, and my potted ivy at my window.
1 November 1980