sitting in the chair at the one door-window i’ve polished clean
reading the book
in the back of my mind
shaving bone off my finger with the knife
glancing up to see the sky:
Blue
fading blue.
reading
reading
noticing the light darker
glancing up
the sky:
Pink.
no
Lavender…
Magenta…
what is that?
beautiful.
back to the book..
no
i stand up
slide open the door
and go on the deck to look at the sky
my eyes take it in like a drug
and i smile
and think
—so beautiful—
it’s cold
back inside
warmth, kinda
reading
glance up
The Sky
you can see the rays of sun falling behind the earth in the clouds
watch it
can you see it moving up? disapearing?
how much longer?
you know
it always fades to black
the book..
no
i slide open the door
and look
not just the sky over the valley
the tops of the clouds still bright
but to my left (the west)
so bright!
the whole sky!
that COLOUR!
i turn and look
to see if you’re going to follow me
do i have a book mark?
no
.finger.
i run
to the front
through the garden
down the steps
around the chappel
the sky in the north is already gone to blue
this didn’t work
in the west! it’s so bright
i run
up the hill
no enough
i run
up the drive way
is life worth living if you don’t try and chase down the sunset?
i wouldn’t want to be friends with someone who died with out trying…
but how long has it been
since i chased the sunset?
it seems like something familiar
something i’ve done my whole life
a million childhood days…
chasing rainbows…
driving fast through fields…
but i’m on foot now
and it’s cold
and my lungs are hurting
my mouth filled with cold air
stiff tongue
i clamp it closed
and breathe deep through nose:
is this the last time i’ll ever see it? this streak of bright life through the sky?
it’s gone
the sky is gone blue again
the colour is fading behind the other mountain
i open the book where my finger is
and read the last few paragaphs of the chapter that i could have read
but missed the sunset
and walked bouncily back down the hill to the house
where it’s warm
and dark, already
night is here
maybe i’ll die tonight
hopefully be reborn tomorrow…
Too Much.
i went to harbin hot springs two days ago
it was SO good
but if only i’d gone earlier..
if only i’d gone the day i intended to go!
some friends of mine were there!
well, one guy i knew
and his friends.
Michael.
i parked the jeep and walked up the steps
and when i got to the first landing
the smoking deck
there he was
his friar-tuck face, beaming eyes and beautiful beard
briar clamped between his teeth
curls of smoke around his shiney head
HUGS and sharing the pipe and conversation
he’d spent the night!
OH!
onlyif
ifonly
if
he was only there an hour longer
i stayed and enjoyed him
and his lover
we all played together in the water
massaging and cuddling
then his lover left
and he and i swam in eachother a bit
Celtic magician
we connect…
then i took care of myself
great stretching
then hot
then cold
hot
cold
hot
cold
Yes.
beauty all around
the night fall
the stars
checked my messages
and my farmer wasn’t coming down
all indecisive
but another guy from CL had called
and he lived just south of there
“you might not like me: i’m a teddy-bear of a guy”
hmmm, just my luck
i give him a call
and head on down to see him
really sweet
furry everywhere
long thick currly red furr
great!
we cuddle
while we’re having sex
he says “rape Me”
i say
‘ that’s not what i do, i’m loving you ‘
gotta hold our hands sometimes..
it was an alright night
not great
there was some trouble
his undenying reality of medicine and “getting old” which i find tiring
but he was a sweet man
and nice to cuddle
but i was tired
came home
and a 70 year old had driven up from the city
as if he hadn’t even read my ad
not my type at all
but he drove so far
(though he had a meeting just an hour away in calistoga, so it was JUST for me, but an hour out of the way for me)
we tussled around
he was hungry
but…
it was ok
i sat up
startled
after resting
and pulled my back out
the clouds were rolling in
weather changing
i felt terrible
what’s goin on?
he left
and two hours later
another guy came
who i’d talked with online for a year
interesting fellow who’s travelled the world all his life
hasn’t “had a straight job for over 25 years”
in his early 40’s
but he’s like a dead-head drainbow
and the entire time he’s there he’s talking non-stop
about him
and all of his friends
and the guy he takes care of
and everyone he knows
and everywhere he’s been
and it has nothing to do with me
and i feel like i’m fighting him to speak
and he’s really not interested in what i have to say anyway
and if i travel my whole life will i have so much to say
blindly unaware of the real people around me?
maybe
but i don’t think i’ll ever take that many drugs…
Worn Out!
i sent him home forcefully
and decided not to head down to the city like Guy asked me to
yeah
i could help him with the Flowers for Valentine’s day
but suddenly
it doesn’t feel important
and it feels off track
and i don’t know where i’m going
or what to do
so i decide to just sit and wait
and fight my urges for sugar cravings
and try not to be too swept up by the phantoms
i’ve been abstaining from sugar for over a week now
but for some grapefruits
and a few dates a day
the computer still lures
i have to fight against it
a type of sugar
my brother called
it got me off line to talk with him
then i went to read
but first: i needed some chocolate.
i have a few kinds of chocolate with no sugar in them
not sugar-free chocolate
in an atkins kinda way
but more like baker’s chocolate
i love the bitter too
but right now
i want sugar.
i took out my large serrated pocket knife
and cut a hunk off
and sucked on it
and another
and another
it’s good for the lungs too, you know
black chocolate
entire…
shafenburger..
i stabbed the knife into it
broke off a hunk
and then
broke of a tiny piece of Dagoba’s Lavender/Blueberry dark chocolate (but that had some sugar in it)
the piece was larger than i liked
i chewed it up ravenously
my tongue felt fuzzy
i sat down to read “sure of you” again
in the chair
by the window
something about a guy in his 30’s… AIDS patient gone with dementia at the police office
freaking out
Michael trying to handle it
i get this phantom feeling of cutting my finger with my knife
that large gun-metal blade cudding through my finger
i keep reading
and can feel the blade scraping the bone
and Mary Ann get’s found-out not telling Brian about moving to LA
the serated part of the blade rips so easily through the skin
What the FUCK is THIS?
sleep deprivation?
i’ve cut myself a few times
but never with this knife
never on Purpose, let me make that clear
there’s not a desire here, it’s not like i want to
it’s scary
it’s like i’m pressed against the surface of a paralell reality where it happened
when i was stabbing the chocolate
it slipped
and slid right though my finger…
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