!Daughter sings
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agk's diary 
30 August 2024 @ 15:43 UTC
 --- 
written in kitchen in midori notebook with dip pen,
brause blue pumpkin nib, kuretake sumi ink
transcribed on X61, model M keys, hp vf15 monitor
in kitchen while daughter and roommate read
 --- 
First daughter dumped scoop after scoop of room-
mate's fancy coffee grounds onto the exposed sub-
floor where the linoleum broke and came up, chant-
ing all the while:

 "I *will* remember it
  I *will* remember it...."

Now she picks it up after I shouted at her. She
rhythmically intones:

 "Help! Help! Who can help?"

Darlin you're on your own. That was nice coffee you
wasted, and we ain't rich.

Daughter enthusiastically washes her hands in the
filled kitchen sink, standing on a cooler she
dragged over to reach it. She sings:

 "Doh-doh-doh-whoa...."

I don't know the next thing I ought to do. Should I
start dinner for my wife? She'll come home hungry
from thirteen hours of work, maybe after a death
today, her period just begun.

Should I go sit with the Berea4Palestine tablers
first, be social and helpful? I should change my
shirt for that---this one is torn.

Should I text the cavers directions to our Sunday
adventure first? Take out the compost and take down
the flypaper? Text a guy, arrange to strip a chain
off a 60-year-old bike abandoned in the falling-
down shed beside the cabin he rents, to replace
mine that broke?

Daughter stands on her cooler, elbows on the
counter, splashing hands in the water. She sings:

 "Doh-doh-doh-whoa,
  STOP!"

"I told the flies to stop," she says to me. I dip
my pen every sentence. Reflection makes space
between doing and resting.