oh, I need to write

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oh, I need to write
my thoughts right now!
:la lala la la

I want to watch tv
not drop into the torrent of my consciousness
Yeah!

two memories
what?
1942?3?
bombing The Hague

the nazis came
his dad was hiding in the basement
his elder sister played piano for the soldiers
while one balanced him on his knee
he was 2 or 3

later
when they were bombing the city
his mother and sisters and he were running through the burning streets to reach
a place of safety

two memories:
first
a parot flew by
he’d never seen one before
it was a trendy middle class acquisition at the time
so exotic
somehow free’d from a destroyed building

second:
a leg
in a boot
no body in sight
just standing there
blood

his father had a horse drawn carriage
and went back and forth to the house collecting all the things they’d want to keep
through the burning streets

everything else got destroyed around there…
but their house was fine
over the remaining years of the war
they sheltered many Jews
(his them in the basement, the walls)
because Jesus wanted them to
but they didn’t learn their names
or answer their thank you cards years later

Life

another:

one of his best friend’s as a kid (in queens, in the eighties… early nineties)
lost a finger in a…
you can’t see it in this photo
he was my best friend…
but he was kind of abusive
he’s probably really hot now.
we used to suck eachother off a lot
but at some point he just acted like an asshole for no reason and they stopped being friends

all sorts of functional blind spots.

today in Greenpoint
The Poles!
they are So Tacky!
all the letters: how does that sound?
I can’t pronounce it…
how brazen… good for you!
income tax!
and a bunch of garbled words
and stuffed animals in the windows
-I think of the puff-paint sweatshirts in brataslava; rhinestones…
sparkle motion

and that depressing neighborhood yesterday in the bronx
where I thought…
one thing
and another thing
and
I didn’t want to

it all hurts
these memories
and these judgements

I want integrity and love
memories are intrinsic
oh, but the tragedies…
are they really necessary?
because they happened, they are!
and these judgements?
what about the abuse I imagine happens inside the vinyl sided house with Two iron fences; American Flag

the "depression" I imagine
"poverty"
"tackiness"

the chocolate and candies were horrible

I want to love everything!
but is that loving?

someone, he said, has to do the sorting
("and who gave you authority?!")

"he’s sweet"
everyone says

‘yeah, cloying. yeah, to give you cavities. oy! diabetes!’

being pleasant and nice is not useful
being liked
is not an important goal

action through integrity
has itself to answer for
no doubts or fear

accept what you are

when I was helping him today
holding her hair

I have to grow out my hair again

of course!
yes!
just a year of short hair
again

just this time

.
:.: