Today while drifting through the winter smog

I talked to Scotland, made some crepes, read the Times, wrote a couple of drafts and revised another poem, listened to Sufjan Stevens and Glenn Gould, ate leftover enchiladas, walked the dog, watched a movie with my daughter, thought about my life, wished I had Christmas lights up, thought about John Clare and getting lost, sent some worky e-mails, corresponded with students, and wished I had a piece of pie. And now I am in my dressing gown and shall read and do a crossword and dream about next week.

That is all.