April is the
hottest month. Bumpy line starts in the L–corner and rises like Bolero to April
2016 in singular crescendo of inexorable bumps. Lurid reds and yellows assist
the effect. What to do? Turn off the computer? Mild May persists with its warm
regards. Weather is unusually blowy. Life is hardly L-graphs, linear time but
one set of references. No one started in a corner, wiggle-wiggle, reached a
bumpy pitch, declined and fell like a roaming empirical. Yet the round world’s
imagined corners contain our singular existence. Change is met, just as things go
bump in the night.
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