Friday, October 29, 2010

Penny Candy

     Not much here. the road - a few dirty pennies on the ground. leaves falling from trees. On the grass, a light morning dew, the pavement reflects a diamond mist, shards of glass in amounts endless. birds song over hum of a\c condenser. It shakes beneath the window. shades are open but the windows are fogged so badly - the room is cold. blankets.
she met me here, stayed the night. she's gone now , maybe to work, im not sure she has a job. maybe school? she says she's writing. im not sure. im a writer. ha ha ha. Im writing this on the back of a book of matches. the words are small, Ill light it on fire when im finished.
she left early this morning. It was still dark. It was the first time weve seen each other in a few years. It was the same but different. No, it was the same. it was whatever i told myself it would be. If i still wanted to love her i could. If i wanted her body, if i wanted to hate her. I could.  i only know one way to make love to her - hard. dirty. my body wont let me do anything else. it is difficult to be tender. i cant be anywhere but in the moment. like an animal. It's chemicals..she believes it too. Its why we follow each other. state to state, city to city. in dreams.  there are often no words and long distances and... no words. not before or after or now. we just sometimes fall together...cosmically by design. we say hi,  she asks would you?  just one more time. let's.  we should, we shouldn't. Shall we? Yes. say yes. just say yes.

  I didn't  find the bible but i prayed. It's usually in the top drawer of the night stand.  isnt it?  not that i would read it but it's the knowing its there. like you and I.  it makes me feel safe somehow. like it was worth it to drive all this way to make this mistake. - and it is a mistake as much as its not. It's something we know better than but do anyway. life is short and painful. all those excuses make it better and worse. Us. the flaw in us. in all of us who haven't overcome the attraction. 

When i finish, i immediately feel us slip away. I fall between that space of  anxiety and calm. the desire that drove me all those miles begins to rapidly fade. I put it all inside her. she has it now.. all my good words,  she has the books and maps and she has me...inside her. my life. and i have....nothing.  i turn on my side and give a thumbs up to the darkness. my small victory. i had her. I smile into an imaginary camera filming the movie of my life. I think this might be the last time and I wonder upon this grand closure. never enough, never satisfying. there is a candy on the night stand which i pick up and put in my mouth. It's ever so sweet. she left this to remind me of her. i light the match and watch the words burn.

Monday, October 25, 2010

How Our Lives Look with the Lights Off

pages torn from dirty magazines thrown along the path, stacks of them hidden under tree stumps. not the lame kind with articles but hard-core. filthy. Even as young as i was, i knew the difference.
the woods meant something dark and dirty, something exciting - alive.  once glossy pages, a bird trail of tits and ass. body parts rained on, weather beaten. I knew every inch of the woods. where knives were hidden. the secrets people thought they buried - I dug them up. after school and on weekends all i did was explore these woods, they made me feel safe, they made feel scared.

I could still hear the fighting and chaos in my head, the excessive talking to myself , but it was less here than home. It was in the distance. less here than at school or riding the bus to school . I listened for breaking twigs, foot-steps, noises, voices. I perched myself in trees or camouflaged within the brush. I saw things: kids smoking pot, drinking beer, peeing on trees, two teenagers fucked on top of wet pine needles and then against a tree. they fucked like how dogs do it. I saw a man bury a cat and another man attempt but fail to hang himself from a tree branch. I saw people bury things and days later dig them up. the girls who came into the woods only did bad things. in fact, most anyone who was there was doing or would do something bad. 

I stayed until dark or as long as i thought i could without being missed. If i went home my Dad would find something for me to do. Some work. He'd call me worthless or pick on something he deemed to effeminate about me: the way i walked or the clothes i wore,  anything to make me feel small. So I stayed in the woods  because i am lazy to work and  hate taking orders. I was to important,  i knew to many secrets.

Bad dreams. i had bad dreams, nightmares- tornadoes in a dark distant sky,  decomposition, the smell of it.  bad dreams about  bodies being buried and unburied. I'd wake with my heart beating fast, sweating, shaking. I couldn't remember,  were these things i really saw or something just made up? - just dreams. I felt as if i had done something wrong. just bad dreams.

when i got older,  I went from watching to doing. i took a girl i liked from school back there. i showed her the weapons id found. knives, arrows, rope,. she looked impressed.  i showed her how to hide, to make yourself disappear in the woods.
"Let's do something we have to keep a secret"  this usually involved pulling down our shorts,  pulling up shirts. this usually involved drinking beers and kissing. this usually involved the planning of murder of her Daddy.
He touched her and that made me angry. I touched her too. how casually she gave in to me - anything i wanted, she'd tell any lie, keep any secret.  

we remained friends. me and the woods. me and the girl. what we did or did not do. we keep in touch. the wounds have turned to scars. what we do or do not know. i can feel her, though she lives nowhere near down south. when we speak, I detect the slight drawl in her speech - and mine,  well  no one would notice.
"no more bad dreams? "  she asks.  " no more bad dreams?  " I ask. 

Thursday, October 21, 2010

whereabouts unknown

there was one halloween i put on a cape and mask, i was batman. another halloween a pirate, a cowboy, a biker, the grim reaper. there was one,  a long time later where we carved pumpkins in the back yard, sitting on the deck next to the swimming pool. pumpkin guts and seeds, she made a mess of things. i made a mess of things. we fucked on the sofa and in my bed and she got up in the night and told me she just couldnt be there anymore. she left and went to him. 3:03 A.M.  I didnt know it at the time, but i thnk she saved my life.
another halloween a different girl and we were married that evening, at midnight we drove into the night. she asked me not to stop until we saw snow or at least changing colors of  leaves. I kept the music loud, i kept my foot on the gas and my heart was anywhere we ended up and called home. october soiled in blood and birthday candles. littered with memories and the veins of fallen leaves. sometimes I fall hard for the think-back and want back and take back. here we are, here I go again.

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

Everything from here to there and back

In typical Libra fashion it was hard for me to decide when choosing a device to replace my beaten and battered, but trusty lap-top unit...fond memories: porn that had graced its screen and ate away it's memory, the music, the sin, the sticky hot writing. Its where we met- It's where we said goodbye. Love and sex and text and email messages, gmail chats and music exchanges. love and lust in the new age. All those late nights. The duct-tape could no longer hold you or the lap-top in place and so,....

The thing was, i wanted something small, mobile, fast, something id never used before. sleek with design, light and long battery life. something that looks good maybe even to good for me. I already have a Desk-top so that is my anchor - i wanted an affair with something on the side, something new, something to blow me totally the fuck away.

Enter I-Pad. reach out and touch and touch and touch. touch glass, touch words, blow your mind out with apps. I dont own an I-phone or I anything for that matter, unless you count an old Nano I-pod. i was very unfamiliar with whole apps thing or how the touch format worked. but i did it anyway, I splurged an bought myself I-Pad for my birthday. I did my research and for all i wanted to do for all - i needed. I choose I-pad wi-fi - 3g. I know it doesnt have Flash (lack of porn viruses), or USB port (you have to synch it through I-tunes using your Desk-top) It cant totally replace a lap-top but...yet it can. It did. I'm tapping glass right now.

Im still in the early stages, getting used using the touch keyboard, rifling through the "must have" apps at the apple store, figuring out how to post to this and other blogs. Oddly enough there isnt an app made for Blogger, but there is one for Wordpress (which i dont use) and to be honest its not that easy to post on blogger from the Ipad at the moment.there will probably be something for blogger soon or adjustments to the site so its a bit easier.I hope. LJ, and Tumblr apps easy and great. pretty much everything else..I love. I even enjoy the touch keyboard more than i thought. Of course you can get a wireless keyboard, stands, a moleskine case even. cases, sleeves, covers, apps.. ( so far i have only installed an anti-glare and scratch proof cover on it). Its all making my head spin but in a good way.


-thrift-store had half off records over the weekend..thats half off .60 cents folks. a new batch had just arrived and so i picked these up for .30 cents each. they are worth that for the cover art alone.

This was written on the I-pad. Amen.

Thursday, October 14, 2010

41 drops of blood

    Forty-one today. how the fuck?!  that's a  few candles on the cake. that's having my cake and eating it too. 41- I cant believe it myself and it's me. It's Hum to Lolita, It's 20 is half my age. it's the professor, It' call the runner, It's the confessor, it's the dirty ol man. 
At least its a prime, at least a prime number. fate is based on primes.
Here i am slower to get out of bed and here i go working harder and longer just to add up days.  saving a sudden car crash or heart failure or some major catastrophe, aren't we all destined to live past our mortality rate. slow, slow, slow . to many pills and tubes and miracle cures. to much medicine.there are zombies among us. 
   Im an alchemist in many ways, starting off creating a potion for one thing and ending up with something else entirely. I never meant to write any of this down. this was supposed to be words and numbers for only me to read. but your eyes have pried on the stories i tell.  I have bled and made you bleed. i never meant to hurt you. Here is some truth.- I still think about you. .
But, Im not the kind that wants to go back. I know more now, though i don't know any better or i do know better but now i can see the fall ahead.
 How many more of these, who knows?  I remember nothing of the town where i was born. was there sun or snow? It was the beginning of fall, there were pumpkins and dried leaves, and the sky...oh the sky i bet it was a hazy orange hue.
Im still mixing potions. discovering your poisons and drinking her cures.  I have stumbled upon the best things in life by accident and there are no accidents.

Monday, October 11, 2010

mind in gutter feet on the ground

out here,  things don't go the way we plan. love in uncharted waters. love in anything.
a sinking ship. love corrupt.
love as a whore. cannon fire, walking the plank.
I long for the warm water drowning.
there is no compass and there are no maps. use the skyline. use the  stars.
use me.  

we carry switchblades
we drink from bottles of salt-water tears.
you are the tide that washes over all the names and tattoos.  
i raise the sails and let the wind carry me 
wherever it will. this is revenge
this is kidding ourselves,
this is other lovers and
other beds
this is never expecting to much
this is running away
while looking
for home
raise the sails,
I let wind carry me
and it