Ah
but with all that rushing around
i did not get to finish the book before i left the city..
but the book was all about the city..
as the plane was taking off
i was shocked (constantly lately, streaks of blonde through my hair)
i was going so Far away from New York
New York Loves Us!
it takes care of us..
it gives us everything we want
… if we know where to find it
and work hard enough for it.
but away we went
far from new york city
over the dark ocean
tired
wired
i could not sleep
i had to finish the book
and yet
through the reading of the book
i realized that in my rush
what happened to the little buck-skin bag Clyde had given me?
and what happened with that NetFlix?
damn…
no clue
such a rush..
but i kept reading
and through all the drama
the climax that didn’t entirely all connect
not all the promised answers got delivered
melt down
interesting to end a story in a melt down
but maybe that’s how it went?
still
i couldn’t stop thinking about the netflix
and the bag..
when the story was over
i was shocked as well
fulfilling my own beliefs
confused, in light of the conversation we’d had
damn distractions
when it was over
i found the buck-skin bag
no idea how to bring it back to life…
but the netflix?
no idea what happened to that
and will i have to pay for it?
some movie i didn’t see
maybe lost in the taxi?
damn…
$24
money just drifts away…
i slept an hour maybe
and before the plane landed
while we circled in holding
i found focus
it’s so easy
just takes intention
mind pulls away
just bring it back
feels so good
but damn: i’m tired.
( i wrote this version to a friend while on the plane )
i left your house sometime after 3
i didn’t get to see Dzogbear Kevin
my check from the insurance company didn’t arrive.
i went up stairs and got my coat
(i left your house with no coat, so i wouldn’t have to lug another back over… it was warm and sunny and beautiful… a real spring day
til the clouds came and it was cold and i was shivering, snot running down my nose)
took the bus (free transfer) to see bridget
to say good bye
to eat a burrito with her (no mexican food in europe)
then walked through the sunsetting streets back to my place
like that Q train home over the bridge
: last time i’ll see this for a while.
i started ravenously packing shit together
totally confused
totally shocked
whatthefuck
how did i get so much stuff?
what am i to do with it all?
absurd
i started throwing shit in boxes
everything was full
everything was too full
it was all a mess
bottles of piss…
ugh
mess
i left your gnome drawing on my wall between my philadendron vines!
and called a chassidic jew
he said he’d give me a ride over to your place
i ran up and down the stairs
all my boxes, bags, suitcases, plants
the trash, the recycling
i sweat and huffed and puffed
i put it out on the side walk
and waited
panicked: how would i ever make the plane?
and how the fuck would we get on the manhattan bridge?
he didn’t know, i didn’t know
we drove around
we made it
him talking on the phone in yiddish
to your house
as i got out
unloading shit from his SUV onto your stoop
a cab pulled up behind him
light coming on
i asked him if he’d stop and wait for me
take me to JFK
he laughed: happy too
it was your landlord coming home!
“good timing” he said
i’m the luckiest man alive, i know
i lugged all that shit upstairs
didn’t do such a
good job
packing it into my little room behind your bed ( i live there now, you know. it’s my room. me and your library )
copied the rest of the music over
i got sondheim out!
i needed sunday in the park… and night music
sorry! i didn’t get to put it back
i was running around
sliding on the leprous floors
i washed the dishes, though
but that was earlier in the day:
i didn’t want you to come home to a moldy sink
ugh…
as i packed up my computer
i realized i had that fucking net flix
that last one
fucking “girl, interrupted”
fucking wynona
goddamnit!
i ripped it open and then off and sealed it shut
and have no idea where it ended up
i thought i dragged it downstairs
maybe it’s in the back of the cab
maybe it’s in the hall way
maybe i left it upstairs in your flat
but if you’re communicating with your landlord
you might tell him to throw it in the mail for me, that’d be cool, dude, like really great
or ask m. to go see if it’s around
fuck
it was my last flix to return
and i don’t want to fucking buy that fucking movie
but oh well
the really important thing is that you’re in touch with bridget
i want you to get that gnome from her
and when the insurance check arrives
i want you to get that too…
so the house number is
(212) …-….
and i’m giving her your email address so she can be in contact with you too
maybe i’ll give her your numbers…
but they’ll probably not do her any good.
Also
i paid the chassid for the ride by lending him my porn DVDs
the two bear parties
and those australian ones
so he’s going to mail them back to you once he’s finished with them
so i’ll give him your work address
i’m sure he won’t label them as PORN
but when you do get them from him
at least you’ll know where the fuck they’re coming from
watch the Daddy Jim shit
he’s hot.
the chassid thought you sounded hot
and wondered if i would hook you two up so he could play with you
— i’ve played with him a few times before
long payets
big red beard
round pale furry bear body
33
doesn’t speak english all that well
doesn’t smell bad
i would recommend it to you
you know
as an experience
anyway
he was very turned off when he found out you had tattoos:
you know you can’t get into the kingdom of heaven with those, right?
at least you’re circumsized, Sheesh
what the fuck is going on?
Recent Comments