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just saw this being walking by
a hit with the olde thymers
last week I read an article tgat came by the facebook feed about electriccars flourishing in Houston
I have a cousin who lives there and works for an oil company
so I sent her a note to just reach out and touch
under the auspices of asking if the oil componies were getting into the e-car deal somehow
a few hours later
see sent me a text message telling me she was in NYC and staying just a few blocks from me at her boy-friend’s bother’s apartment
I’ve been awful busy lately
(I thought of the line “keeping busy with strangers”… as that’s what I mostly do… though not nessecarily the last few days)
so didn’t see her today
for brunch (after leaving a new stranger/friend on the trainheading down to Penn station to catch the Megabus home to BostonLand)
Her boy friend’s brother is gay
and told a charming story of his last day working at this very resaurant (on Columbus at 81st: just imagine)
a large black lady
with a fresh hair-do was in his section
when he greeted her and asked what he could get for her
she said “a different waiter please… a straight one.”
he left to compose himself
but quickly returned
assuring her hecould perform adequately
but she reaffirmed he desire
putting her bible on the table
like a pistol in a card game
he stood up
and noticing a passing waiter carrying a full tray of sangria
snatched the pitcher and dumped it on the lady saying ” then you canto fuck yourself, bitch”
a flair for the dramatic
but did it in front of her kids
so hopefully made the world a little better place
nice enough food
we the headed to The Natural History Museum
which I’d not been in for years
and I’d entirely forgotten it was pay-what-you-will
we breezed through until we found the dinosaurs
and the kind of senitive I am
bowled through me as I approached the T-Rex skull
I was shocked
wondering what it was I could feel rolling through me
the years?
the spirit of the beast?
the fascination of the human eyes who had gazed upon it?
I was buzzed
but they were on a schedule
flying out at four
we found our way out
(passed a rather suggestive quote about The Youth by Theodore Rosevelt)
and walked through the Park
the Ramble, actually
where I said perhaps a bit too much
funny gay uncle that I am
she’s my first cousin, 25
not shocked
but perhaps her construction foreman bf from Dallas…
his gay brother even
they got on the train to go back up
pack
and fly out
I went back into the museum
anyone want to hang out?
just smiles from those everywhere but here
I mostly spent time with the geological samples
feeling the earth
my fingers over the rough and polished surfaces
a huge Garnet! gigantic slab of tourmalines!… and all the ores…
I sat underneath a strange representation of the earth
where the clouds disappeared, the vegitation died, the oceans dried up… then the planet revitalized… over&over with a calm female voice narrating it in dead-pan smile
lava
iron red Jasper
and the moon
in the gift shop
the sold ecospheres
sealed
with algae and plant and shrip
that would apparently life indefinately because it was perfectly balanced
and horrifying
what would it be like to have one?
forever living and dying in perpetual stasis?
like living in the suburbs…
if I exposed it to low level radiation
say, putting it on my red fiesta p
saucer
would they mutate over time?
huuugh
I saw reptiles
African peoples
pulled wire
iron workers (the Egyptians didn’t have Iron… were they just respecting the faeries?)
I walked out onto 77th and at the corner, dissuaded by the long line at The Shake Shack
I turned to the flea market
…now The Green Flea
fea.
a man continually calling out $3 bouquets
a beautiful old metal mortar&pestle, $65
a gust of wind blew
I coughed
and wondered if there was a specific homeopathic for the cough that comes when the wind blows..
Asian artifacts
or fakes
the girl
calling every green stone “jade”
anyone know if that’s a cultural thing?
(like injuns in Fresno calling every burnable leafy plant “sage”)
or just a scam dependant on mineral ignorance?
saw a pair of old frames I might of bought
a frumpy round man smiled at me in a way…
a designer Italian jacket
meant for a skinny tall black guy
I went inside
never realized there was a flea market in the school
is that only a winter thing?
I looked at tables of things
astutely avoiding eye contact with some of the sellers…
looking for a hall tree, that’s all I wanted
but all this stuff
this old stuff
why is it so expensive?
aren’t junk fares supposed to be cheap?
it’s 2010 in new york
ok, ok
a nice table
filled with European trade
lighters, cigarette holders and cases
but behind it
a chubby man with grey goatee and hair
says he likes my hair and beard
then stands up and comes out around to stand next to me
I shake his hand and introduce myself
he, again, says he likes how I look
looks me over
and is shyly taciturn
I try to keep the conversation going
and keep touching him
his arm, shoulder
and the feelings roll through me
his (business?) partner is a nice British woman with red hair
he’s French
I talk with him about lighters
pick up one in a leather case saying I like its style
and he says “that’s English” with a hint of that old distain…
I want to buy something from him
but don’t really want more stuff
I got a ton of new clothes in Friday
and my bedroom is a constipated clutter of useful items I don’t know what to do with…
I fingered a beautiful silver(plated) flask
but $85 was enough to off-put me
even though he said it was his
in his Studio 54 days
does that mean “gay”?
not really
but I shook his hand again (lovely thick mitt) and we exchanged cards
what if that’s his wife?
I walked around more
down the crowded hall flanked with student Lockers
I paused to admire a picture of Socrates on a classroom door
a man there perking up and saying Hello and commenting on my beard
I continued through the vendors
and broke out in to the cold
getting a shake a fries (excellent fries)
ate them standing next to a father and son
Divorced Dad trying to be frank with his kid
not really understanding how his kid worked
putting forth ideas and sentiments and back-pedaling, explaining, side stepping
a woman in the museum had berated her… grandchild… about always losing and breaking things
setting a seed of failure into the child’s brain because she forgot how un-dextrous most children are
I got a call from a client who wanted me to spank him
I had to talk in couched terms next to the kid
so went out to walk
and confirmed the date
then stopped into the Tibet Bazaar to get more suede covered sticks for my bowls I’m disseminating this week
and a new hat, only $25
which looks nice on me
she said
I like her; glad the shop is still there
stopped into Harry’s Shoes
and they Almost had what I’m looking for
I’ll come back in two weeks with cash
the 86th st entrance to the 1 was closed
but there was a bus, M104, I rode up to 96 to get on the train
but bought a book on Flemish and Dutch paintings… coz it was rather cheap and had a beautiful bearded man on the cover
the man took my money
in the wind
and stared at me intently
while his woman friend commented how she liked my beard
“like Cat Stevens when… when he…”
‘when he was Cat Steven?’ I offered
“Yes”
train there as I walked down the stairs: perfect
obviously not enough time to write all this in that short trip
so have been laying on my couch in the soft salt light typing this on Giordano (my iPhone) while listening to sings starting at “La Duchess Anne” to “Lauchhammer”
I passed a big pile of human feces on the walk out of the 1 tunnel
I was so focused on writing I almost stepped in it
what luck
now gotta prepare for a massage ( with spanking ) and spending the night in the west village
.iP
so much (for that) there
Tuesday night I passed out on the way home (by nearly 4am)
And I haven’t been home since then:
a flaw in my plans
(to write on the way home…)
it’s friday morning now…
no, 3:42pm
I slept on soho
after sleeping in Brooklyn
a cat nap in gerald’s room
then Hot Nude Yoga
which was not terrible as I’d feared
but how would I have done if I’d not had a hot bellied muscle-bear-man there?
the whole practice was not psuedo sexual as if feared
though there was one man who was constantly looking at me with a tangible gaze…
and yeah: the partner yoga was lovely
and I must admit
reminded me of what I always forget:
heart-centered… generating love and compassion and gratitude…
I always do it in theory better than practice
but practicing with a partner in yoga:
it’s an asset
I feel like I wish I could practice yoga every day
maybe that’s what I’m moving towards
thus morning
before heading to Brooklyn
I talked with my brother
telling him what he wanted to hear
but in accord with myself
that, of course he needs no healer
but in tgat order
he must train himself to fully care for himself
-he asked me to cone out there and help
as well as spend time with Connor
and I love the suggestion
though I aim to stay home this year
not leave
the challenge: not leave
of course
I took the keys to my friend’s flat in the village to house sit for him there next week
is that a vacation?
a perspective shift?
I fantasize about living in a few different areas of the city this year
just part of my New York project
to feel other neighborhoods
anyway
it’s too easy to let things slip out of my hands
the string grip of the relaxed hand is what I’m wanting
practice, practice
mediate
meditate
Poise.
meanwhile
I’m thinking again of all the things I want to write
this story taking shape
when I remember what happened last year with Ægypt nipping my inspiation in the bud by being not only my exact idea, but better executed than I’d imagined and about someone coming up with that idea and finding it already written
yet unfinished
of course that story is unfinished
how can infinite loose threads ever be tied up?
this one is different
but reaches back very far and wide inside of myself
I’m starting it in the middle
it might just be notes
we’ll see where it goes
.iP
just passes her walking toward 7th ave. we made eye contact, but neither even slowed to talk.
.iP
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" if I could write my name in the snow
winter to spring
would it mean
that I know
anything? "
-Ruby
.iP
i need to get out more
not really Out Of My House
but out of my head
out of my life
I’m often evious of people who are up to date on so many happenings, fashions, world events
I’m too busy mucking through my thoughts and feelings
in choosing to be more stationary
it’s more oppressive how self-centered I am
where
when I was travelling all the time I was forced to constantly deal with other people, places
and the wind kept me busy…
now I am my own wind
and I need some fresh air
huuuuuuuuuu!
—–
F to 23
got off
saw a big man
dressed all in black
big fuzzy van dyke
thick black glasses
little gold ring in left ear
cute big belly
loaping forward through the gate…
I followed him
thumbed through my wallet, got a card to hand to him
he looked up at me
eye contact
I got the feeling he was
he might
yes, definately
he walked behind me at the top of the stairs
I turned around to face him
and he only had one eye
the other an open hole… or a broken eye, smushed in
I smiled and said hello
as did he
we stumbled fir a minute
and he walked on
I went into the sandwich shop
card still in my hand
damn
I really liked averything about the look of him
cute chubby bear
mid 50’s, I imagine
probably a sci-fi nerd or something brainy
but the eye through me off
rare I feel regret
but in not making possible connections
that’s why I like having cards I can easily hand to someone
even though it rarely results in re-meeting
I feel like I’ve made my part
and hope they’ll at least look on line
and we might be slightly connected
even if not as friends or lovers or tricks
just people who know the other exists…
even though it might be one-way…
little regrets.
sorry eye-man. I missed you.
—–/
“my heart melted at your Touch
turned in to Slush.”
-Jarvis
——
my neighborhood has lots of Russians
I remembered when I first moved up
how I’d never notice them in the summer
the streets flooded with Dominicans
but when the snow fell
they were all out on the street
sitting on the benches
just enjoying themselves in the fridged weather
yesterday I get a txt message from the Russian mafia bear from Brighton beach
sure
he’s been txting me a lot
but nothing actually happening
but where as most people wanted to stay in from the snow yesterday
it pushed him out
and he rushed up to my house for very hot, though fast, sex
I’d replied to his txt
“does the snow make you horny baby?”
he replied
“Yes baby I want u badly”
and was on the way
—-
I was walking along a beach
it was a cool spring day
clear blue skies…
no, grey. it was one of those cold blustery autumn days
so I wasn’t as prepared as I might have been
clinging to the idea of warmth from the recently departed summer
I just wanted to feel enveloped by nature
the sun on my skin, the sea air
but no sun, and the air was nippy
little nips
biting
I hunched my shoulders against it
alternating my hands in my pockets, sharing space with my phone and pens and oil bottle and gripping my hands on my wrists, trying to fold them into my sleeves
that weren’t quite long enough…
still wanting to be there
walking along the water
it all seemed like a good idea
but I was getting sand in my shoes
and knew I’d freeze my ass off if I went barefoot
slogging through the loose sand
coz I didn’t want to risk getting wet walking close enough to the wave line for the sand to be hard
my eyes were squinted into the wind
my hair was whipping around my ears
I’d begun to wish I had just let them take me home in the car
but time alone is good, right?
Right? (I cough into my sleeve)
there are few people out here today
always the dog walkers
joggers
and couples
a fisherman way down the beach
there’s a girl up there smoking a cig
she might be waiting for someone
or getting a breath of fresh air from someone
the air feels good, refreshing
if it were just a but warmer
I step up my pace, my legs are burning
so I walk closer to the water
and tuck my head against the wind
watching the trash collected in the seaweed on the edge of the dry sand
fishing thread
junk food bags
logs, branches from somewhere
dead fish… or something?
then
in a little space seemingly natural
a little altar of lighter and malboro reds on a large flat piece of driftwood
I look up to see who it belongs to
whip my head around and see the fisher, I’d passed him 100ft or so ago, didn’t notice
must be his
I turn to look back at them
the wet sand under my feet
as a wave encroches…
it’s gonna it my feet
I step up
it’s gonna hit the smokes
I dip down and snag them
and the lighter
just before the water rushes over them
got my left foot, damn it.
hair in my eyes, I turn around and walk back over to the fisherman
he’s at least a decade older than me
looks heavy and weary
i call out to him as I approach and ask if these are his cigs
he looks really confused
I explain I saved them from the ocean
he might be drunk
he looks affable, and sad
grateful, he slowly takes them from me
and looks back out at the water
then pulls out a smoke and lights it
instantly shaking his head and looking up at me, offering the box to me
I don’t like malboro’s
but take one and the lighter
I have considerably more difficulty lighting it in this wind
but am glad I won’t actually have to inhale much: the sea air will smoke it for me
I ask him what he’s fishing for
he shrugs and mumbles something I can’t hear, as he takes the lighter back and looks out at the sea
he asks me if I’m from here
I tell him No, from…
he says he’d been living in Michigan
but came back out here when his girlfriend left him
I wonder if this is an invitation
but he honestly looks so lonely and confused
I’m sure I could steer him any direction
but don’t feel like I have the heart for that ride right now
I tell him Good Fishing
he thanks me and our eyes hold eachother for a minute
I spin around and continue charging through the gnawing wind and slogging sand
glancing up at people as I pass them
but doing my best to avoid eye contact with anyone but the ocean
she’s wants the same thing everyone else wants
but she’s so big I really don’t have to worry about disappointing her
she’s got all the time in the world
I just have to get back to their house before my heart freezes
.iP
a few months ago
I went to the 9th Avenue Saloon
and sat down across from a guy on the corner
I forget his name
-we’ll call him Hank-
He talks to me every time I go in there
we aren’t really a match
between us was a cute bear
I can no longer remember his face specific
just blurry bar light
we were all talking
I like this bar
I don’t find it cruisy
always interesting fellas
good conversations with strangers
this night
cute-bear-guy asks me what I do
talk talk talk
I ask him
he says “I’m a drunk. I drink too much. want to come home with me?”
I’d never hooked up in this bar
but really needed a cuddle on thus particular night:
this was the night before I erased my escort ad, which had only been up a half year
and I never liked how it felt
a bear had been over at my house
amateur stand up comedy bear
who felt mostly like neurotic self-loathing chubby Jewish guy
and made me feel frustrated and tired
he gave me a ride down to a John in Hell’s Kitchen
and when I hit there he was terrifyingly HIV meds skinny, bulging eyes and veins
and wanted a bareback-fuck daddy/boy rape scene
he went to the kitchen to pour me a glass of left me in a room with HBO’s Hung on
and I freaked out and told him I had to go
he called me ten minutes later and asked me to explain myself
then yelled at me
how rude and unprofessional
yes: that’s who I am
I was feeling shakey.
so I went to The Saloon to unfurl and assess myself
it was the only night I went home with someone
I remeber his body in the dim light
he was round, soft, but strong
too drunk to do anything
he flaided around a few scenarios
passed out and snored
I cuddled up
didn’t sleep well
but felt very dear
comfort
protection
safety in the darkness
a sweetness
in the morning I got his number
but haven’t seen him since.
I just txt’d him
but he’s uptown at a friends superbowl party
so I’m heading home
there may be a hot guy from Brooklyn waiting to get his dick sucked when I get there
we’ll see
Went to the Saloon tonight with my friend Tony
I don’t see him often
but our meeting was magical
in Brazil and Oregon
so I’m always happy to have him in my life
addicted as I am to novelty
we didn’t really play around today
we’d just cone from eating a 5 napkin Burger
they Were pretty damn good…
before that
we’d seen Ethan Hawk and a few other 80’s film stars (Martha Plimpton!) do a bunch of readings from Sam Shepard pieces
Ethan loves him
and has been directing his plays lately
the readings were interesting
some not so good
which made the others even better
which is a good combination
questions afterwards
I said
“it seems Sam isn’t that interested in actually portraying humans, but in represting the essence of humanity through characters that are soecifically Not Real, but studies and exaggeration”
and the talking went on
is that how some fiction works?
it’s all writing to understand reality, right?
do the Mæstros know what they’re doing the whole way through?
before that
Tony woke me at 11
and took me to Queens
to Spa Castle
third friend I’ve brought here in two months…
it was very mellow today
there were some beautiful men there
it always does me good to see naked people
Russian man with balls hanging down mid-thigh
the beautiful gigantic Dominican man, so dark, a wild beast
made it clear, again, my attraction to bears and beasts are tied:
men like this aren’t simply human
they are monsters
beautiful
centaurs, minotaurs…
I gave out my cards
talked to some beautiful chassidic Jews
tickled one
imagined kissing him
such a face!
sweat, stretched, detoxed, rested
so nourishing
walking into the saloon tonight
a beautiful old Frenchman I want to go home with
I don’t think he does that
I imagine his hood…
saw a guy I’ve had sex with
but not in about a year
he’s so beautiful
cute face
beautiful belly
and everything else
standing with a friend of his
who was also coming on to me
made me so lusty
I’ve been lusty all day!
I even wanted Tony’s friend
such warm hands
with the sun in them
just back from Florida…
home now
now what?
.iP
no cohesion to my thoughts tonight
drunk straightjewish guy asks me
if it doesn’t make me angry to see that guy (Danny) romantacising My Man (Dust)
perhaps ogives off the vibe
coz I do live him
friends
as I love
but…
I love Danny too
differently
but
I dunno
I was happy to see them touching
cuddling, kinda
dust was stroking his face at one point
but at this point
Danny was behind him massaging his shoulders and all over
Drunk Jewish Guy calls me out
really?
should I be jealous
I try to explain to him I am not that kind of posessive
later, over manhattans
he tells me I do work my jealousy..
I like his intelligence
his ability to see and know the things I often miss
while I do sone of the same
I see a distance
not a disparity
earlier
Danny and I were talking
and he admitted to being tired of the ethnic diversity of NYC
which is one of the things so attractive to me
he grew up here
and, I imagine, has had to battle it his whole life for his identity
still, he’s more culturally integrated than me
so much so he doesn’t even know it
Danny massaged me for four hours last night
I had to tell him to stop
so I could stumble to bed
as I was passing out
today
we hung out around the house
I decided to tackle my kombucha
and boiled some roots
D grated some Ginger
I made a few different blends
it took hours
it was fun
making potions
late as we ever were
we headed down town to see an artist collective make sculpture
I ditched Danny coz Dust was over it (he got there before us and had already left… we dragged him back
and the paint fumes were a bit much for me anyway…) they sounded like great conceptual artists
this particular manifestation wasn’t turning me on that much
Dust and I went to eat at a Thai place on 23rd
I’ve got money
not rich
but more than I need
and he doesn’t right now
I’m allowed to be the sugar daddy
we joke
but it makes me feel good
for all those years I couldn’t buy my own dinner or drinks
still
$30 for drinks at the rawhide was a bit much
and I was told about the importance of understanding that sometimes a daddy can only support one boy
I’m still young enough I’m just a sugar brother
I felt bad
only afterwards
I ditched Danny again
with some guy he told me about
who knocked people out at bars
like my birth brother
but to be avoided
though I had some attraction for him physically
I had no patience left for the context
gave him my card and fled
I really enjoy hanging out with Danny
why did I ditch him twice?
because he spent the night at my house and I’d had enough?
something something
born with a weak heart
I tire quickly
watching the go go boys rub their muscular bodies
offering a sampler
of the full special you can buy privately later
who doesn’t understand anything ever?
the party
wrap for the film
felt out if place
but happy to hang with G and D&D
and some other really great people there
and odd drunk people who no one knew who wouldn’t leave
what’s that like at your own place?
faith it will take care of itself
watching men on the train sleeping on their way home
such thick faces, skulls, noses
his hair so dense and close around his face
like a mythical animal
sleeping
why’s he out alone?
where’s he going?
handsome big man just got on
smiling
where’s he going?
My Man
what would I do with you?
I still imagine I’m preparing
all the time for waiting
but I’m almost home now
.iP
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