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  • sunshine insults the baby who was born in the rainy season and she complains in her sunhat as we stroll her northwest across town to the seaside market where we eat our burgers amongst pigeons. re: houses, even if I worked instead of tending the baby, even if I were a lawyer and he a surgeon we could not afford to buy here; and even if we won the current lottery we would still not be able to afford the house down the street which has a tennis court and you can smell the blue of the indoor pool from the street; anyhow discussing whether it is buddhism that is missing, and whether the cat might be buddhist, except that he would like to kill birds, whether he can actually catch them or not (which he can't, has not yet properly learned, with no one to teach him); whether buddhists are allowed to live in houses like these. and the baby, needing not houses but I imagine green leaves to examine and sea sounds, birds, things that never seem to be within earshot or the line of sight when she is awake -- she wakes briefly in the stroller or in my arms, inevitably when I am walking down the darkest street, past the longest strip of squat cement and walls and trash bins, and I think, shit, where is a tree?
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