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it’s the same tired, lost, unhappy faces you’d see anywhere…
but here
they all have dyed hair, huge piercings in their ears, a few in the
face, and tattoos somewhere…
they’re probably stoned…
going with the confusion always helps.
i’m kinda seething
seething in hatred and seething in lonliness
i’ve been sitting here working on this magazine for days
in the sweltering heat
thinking that i flew here to be at a hot springs
when i could use it … so badly..
my skin is a mess, my digestion is a mess
my energy is all fucked up
i’ve been sick and achy and tired and feeling broken
and there are the hot springs
and fucking diva queens playing in them
and i’m stuck here
because they didn’t fucking care that i flew here to be there
i was too late
so what the fuck ever
but i’m not at some other gathering
i’m not joyously traveling around
or seeing old friends
i’m sitting at my fucking computer working on their fucking magazine
a magazine i don’t even like
but work on out of some sort of abject guilt
a friend called to remind me of that fact:
that they wouldn’t allow me into their gathering
but i’m sitting here working on their rag
and the next issue is about this gathering
now i’m seething in anger
how can i do this?
i hate being a hater
but i just wish i were home
not that i have any really great friends there or anything
i don’t have any real great friends anywhere
coz i’m such a nasty hater
but i’m fucking holding my breath in limbo here
and i want to explode.
… for what it’s worth.
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I’m in Portland
and the Gathering at Btietenbush starts today.
I’m not there.
it’s all well and good
but I’m allowing myself to fall into depression.
I suppose it’s good I can’t find any good ice cream around…
the pizza was ok…
there are ghosts of me here..
potentials…
I’m hitting my head against all I never was…
it’s just a luxury…
fall
constantly talking about not falling in love anymore
or with what signs
and he says
“not doing the soul-mate thing again for awhile… like til when I’m 60” ( he’s my age )
and feeling stupid for looking at him too much
or dumb for wanting to hold his hand on the car ride home
but sharing a Sarsaparilla and Cream Soda with him
the water was more beautiful
as was the sky
the blackberries more complex
the drinks more rich
maybe I’ve just not been here in a while
or maybe I AM a romantic…
or maybe I’m just the sort of guy who can only have what’s impossible to live with
lots of knowledge
does not equal
Intelligence
the Obituaries page has lots of hot guys on it
we don’t touch eachother as much in new York, not on purpose…
“America, You and I are Perfect
Not the Next World”
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childhood friends
bears
faeries
clients
been busy
but things are looking up
rushed to catch the bus yesterday
turns out
it was on faery time
the driver wasva bear/faerie guy I met last gathering
gave me a free day pass…
and his phone number
today
passing the
“Chinese Baptist Church”
Why?
complete with broken English:
“For Make Disciple of Christ”
there are a few things here I miss
but also so many I’ve totally lost interest in
( like arguing about or mocking religeons )
or
–! gasp !–
am Sooo Ooover
when I was living here in 1999
down town
old town
used to be filled with homeless
passed out
or roudy
still
it is
but
like the meat-packing district
it is filled with new lounges, restaurants and clubs
beautiful old part of the city
why not?
but The Gall to name a “entertainment lounge”
“Hobo’s”
while there are still drunks passed out on the sidewalks across the street
terrible taste
but they are right next to the police station…
and where I got on the bus
four other guys with long hair and full beards
the skinny red one also had an iPhone
we’re in town again
all together
for a conference
of course
we’re in the city
have to come to agreements on things
gotta look at all the options
weigh them out
luckily
we can try them on for size as we build it
i’m not from here
none of us are
the town is Zuerich, the town is Amsterdam, the town is some suburb,
the town is portland, the town is tucson; you know the score
we’re in an office
we’re discussing the options
and i decide i’ve had enough with the city: let’s go for a walk
the building
tilts on its side
and becomes a seperate reality space
within it
we can move freely
through anywhere we’ve already created
in a state of constant flux
it is always, it self, changing
it’s like a ship
it’s like a grandfather clock
it’s like an office table
it’s like a library
it’s like the bedroom in those ugly new houses
and we navigate through tight streets
tight turns
old cobble stones
and huge facades….
yes
but where are the bridges?
where is the riverside?
where is the ocean?
i ask
not through words
but just by creating it
the others with me all receive it as a problem
a blip
the “room” is moving with a momentum
something we’ve created
and
not attending to it
is on a roll
people want to avoid getting their feet wet
(of course)
those loafers
barefoot
is it cold?
the sky is golden
it’s a beautiful summer day
or autumn
or spring, again
and the ocean is crystal clear
blue
bright
blue
we look at it
as we pass
walking up a
now rural road
up the hill
into the surrounding hills
mountains?
suddenly there is a stream we’re passing
i’m surprised now: i didn’t think of that
brilliant idea
in fear
the room we’re in turns back into a suburban box
it relaxes
as i grab hold of it
and lift it off
this is easy for me
as long as i can grab it
i can grab it
and i know how to pull myself up
by the soles of my feet
by the souls of my feets
we’re not walking anymore
we’re sitting again
in a canoe
through the trees
those thick green leaves
just a slight haze in the air
enough to see the sundogs
through the trees
golden
and though we’re so high up
there’s the beach
— something i had forgotten before
the beautiful sand
we walk through it barefoot
someone is
again
disturbed by this texture
so i suggest he lifts himself up
things go out of control
as one
then the other
comes up with lovely lake sides
rivers through the down town of the city
gorgeous bridges accompanying them
though they are very far behind us now
we see them clearly
and they are curious how i lifted up
i pull up the room
and do my best to navigate it through the thickening trees
realizing the weight is now too much for me
as our paths become more and more disparate
i put my hands on my friend
and start describing
again, not in words
and i pull up on him
not with my hands
but with my belly
and he lifts up
so heavy
so clumsy
and i release him from my grip
and he manages to get through the trees
one by one
with my help or their own inspiration
they are lifting
we are all floating free
and i call out
they turn and look, then
what is the choice?
is it an ocean?
is it a river?
a lakeside? a waterfall?
where is it?
down there or up here?
and i puzzle
a few join me
others stare in patience
or exasperation
while we come to the realization
it is all
some places are rivers
some places are oceans
some stormy and dangerous
some bright and blue
blue veins, blue
running through he town
this idea of ours
these ideas of ours
as endless as our imagination at creating it
of course
as you come upon it
you got a different idea from one of us
this is venice
this is “Dark Land”
this is Chicago
this is Amsterdam, Hamburg
golf courses
Rio de Janeiro
wherever you can imagine
to go
and be there
watching the golden light fall through the air
i’m glad it was so simple to realize
as i wake up to the rumbling train in portland
or vancouver, in those ugly new houses
(i went to sleep with his iPod playing, some old 15GB version
the music he had selected was “Coyote Old Man”
before i found the portal to sleep
i started thinking about the bar i’ve seen around the world:
“Coyote Ugly”
meant for pretty college girls
verging on strippers
meant to get drunk with the boys
messes all of them
how do you conceive this?
i wondered
how does it take on so strong?
a flag ship in Champaign-Urbana?
then, in Iowa City “what a good idea! let’s have one here!”
somewhere in London it seems like a good money maker:
a visit to a village of AMERICA
i drift off
and upon waking
remember St Francis Park that i found yesterday
before meeting up with Sheridan
a fountain unlike any i’d seen
made to look like an abstract metalworks
with a little latino girl getting her little black dress wet
down along a winding brick walk
like victorian england
what i saw in the movies yesterday at Brideshead
a fort in the center of it with a bridge leading to it
what fun for kids
aye, what fun for all of us.)
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oh, I’m a home-body now
I’m sitting on the plane
waiting for it to be gassed
and I’m just tired
and already missing my nest…
still
I was very excited when leaving the house
I’m heading to Portland
don’t yet know where I’m staying
or all that will unfold
but it will be good to be in those trees again
oh, nothing is as easy as we’d like it to be, sometimes…
today
there was a beautiful heaviness in the sky
thick clouds
jorge jumped up
excited: “it’s so COZY!”
we even took pictures of the clouds as they thickened
and the rain began to fall
tipped
into a torrential downpour
a man on the street started screaming
“OH SHIT!”
then in spanish
other things
like
“run! you’ll get wet”
but mostly
he kept shouting
“Oh Shit!”
as he rain down the road
we could hear it for Minutes
and Jorge was shocked that this man could be so enthusiastic
saying the exact same thing
… we’d just had a conversation about the difference between non-educated dominicans
who are very inconsiderate: playing their music very loud whenever they want
wherever they want
maybe shooting you if you complain
throwing trash on the ground
camping out on the sidewalks
parking in the middle of the street to have conversations
that sort of thing
so we wondered if this was an “uneducated” man
who could not find anything better to say
yet was so passionate and compelled
by the rain
to say it
we tried it ourselves
click here to have a listen:
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