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“downtown 81”
a film of a day in the life of Jean-Michel Basquiat back in ’81
— Kid Creol and the Coconuts were in it!
and followed by
“Julien Donkey-Boy”
i really like some of Harmony Korine’s stuff
i hated this movie

sometimes it’s not so easy to know the root of WHY
but it’s apparent that it’s happening
i’m not happy
i’m doing … something.
walked for about 6 miles today in the sunshine
the shade of the big redwoods
buried a road-kill possum
and disobeyed the No Tresspassing signs
to play in the trees
got no hitch home
just walked walked walked
yoga again for hours
dancing around
but still
it persists
i’m unhappy
forgive my pushyness, babe
my sad is bopping me around like a puppet

i’m always surprised at just how much acting is involved in every day life…
and
for me
of course
Every Life
is a very strange reality for many people
but in my Life
i’m often surprised
the roles we play for eachother
and maybe
it’s just because i so often deal with gay men
and maybe
it’s because i so often deal with gay men who have such similar lives to me
they
somehow
feel right into my desires
— it’s Men in LA who often pick up on just what it is i want
they sing me my own songs of desires
weaving the mystery and magic i often dream of
and how could they know?
it’s always the men on the west coast
the little boys who ran off to live their dreams
and never came back
i spent a few hours today looking through Escort ads on line
— there’s a guy i had seen in a porn flick a few years ago… when i started watching porn again ( stopped after the age of 14 )
i found him today
(i’d had… Leads… for weeks.. but today… he came my way)
and there were pages of reviews of his performances
people stating how much they were… convinced
and how happy they were to pay
the idea of being an escort becomes more and more attractive
what more satisfying a role to play?
to Really get inside the audiance…
enough of all this distance.
it’s not good enough to be a teacher
or a waiter
or a television personality
i want to taste the sweat off the flesh of the exhausted and pleased
i want to feel the sudders of bliss
of fantasies fulfiled…
perhaps i want to drink the syrum of these fantasies:
reading these reports
i realized
i never have such well-thought-out scripts
no matter what can be said of my luscivious ways
i never work from scripts
i just go into it
seeing what we can make together…
isn’t that was making… love
is about?
re—creation?
creation
imagination
getting in there together
becomming the ripplying of the milyway in the infinite night sky
becomming the magestic beast of prey
being hunted by an even more magestic bird of prey
talking to someone
saying
“you know, when you just wanted to crawl inside someone? putting your entire body into them”
they stared at me blankly
fine, not the lover for me
but i knew what i meant.

tonight i watched
“Poison”
by Todd Haynes
last night was
“The Cockettes”
the night before
“Divine Trash”
— a documentary about John Waters
before before?
in the last few weeks
since i got net flix
“Capturing the Friedmans”
“Porn Star: the Legend of Ron Jeremy”
“the Truman Show”
“Lumiere and Company”
“the Legend of Leigh Bowery”
“Naqoyaquatsi”
“Angels in America”
part 2, before
part 1
starting with
“Some like it Hot”

Somewhere inside me
there is a man with a big round belly
i feel him
when i’m walking down the street
taking long deep strides
my energy rolling down into my groin
from the magma centre of the world
to my belly button
i engorge
and fill the whole world with myself…
or fill myself with the whole world
round
it rolls in my belly
and i cannot help but let the joy of feel it all splash over my face
deep strides
feet pushing through peat of the earth
sparks of love and sensuality..
i felt him tonight between takes in the movie
while the turkey was resting on top of the oven
and my friend was on the phone
i rolled a cigarette there
walked out on the balcony
and stared at the moon
sending little smoke cignals up the night sky
that big luminous lover up there
smiling at me
trusting in someone who’s always there
but always changing
and never
really
depends on me.

i’ve been obsessed with the idea of creation lately…
it’s common for kids to destroy things
like in Grame Greene’s well known short story “the destructors”
to the rash of arsons and vandalisms that happen in any deralic town
Bisbee
empty houses get burned to the ground
these small coast town
sent back to nature
rocks through windows
fire to dry timber
Destruction.
we all want to create something
if not in an immortal way
“leave my mark on the world”
at least changing our environment
–graffiti
or interiour design
better than the comments some make
“oh, i just took a shit”
‘great, production up 100%!’
as children
the easiest way to help creation along
is to prepare the way
prime the fertility of possibilty
by destroying what’s blocking up the flow
the Old
taking a breath
stop
and wonder
when does the change happen
where we switch from one crew to the next?

one of the things that i find most piquant about how lovers hurt eachother
well… for me
is
we do the same things to eachother
(each to our own ability)
if i feel bad for leaving him in my way
off on travels…
he leaves me in his
off on travles
some
but when we’re together
he’s drinking, drunk and gone
or falling asleep
when i’m reading
falling into pattern
and who started this?
who ever starts it?
there is no Starting it
it just keeps happening
and when the pattern is finally noticed
we can sit and feel sorry about it
or inject some dynamite, maybe?
try and blow the whole thing up?
it still doesn’t complete…
the only way i know
is to Move On
and try and find the one where we aren’t hurting eachother anymore
and
really
looking at the whole scope of things
i would have to say i have some faith in that
because the Hurts have got to be much less severe over the years
maybe
mostly
in that i’m getting older
and things dull down
or
perhaps i Am getting wiser and knowing more
and hurting less
thus
being hurt less
what’s going on?
the world is turning into darkness
(i’m really only alluding to winter)
but i feel like i’m waking up all of a sudden…
such excitement
hopes and possibilites
as if my heart is salivating for desires it had long given up on
here we are again
let the banquet begin!

i have stated it
i have made it perfectly clear
and even in understanding
since the first year i had sex with a boy
i was 12
and we had been friends for years…
Best Friends, even
we were both dorks
but
for some reason
i liked his style of dorkyness more than other dorks
at the time…
at 11 or so
we both set off to be psychics
— as my childhood dream to be a wizard became less and less practical
i dummbed down slightly to a more acceptable story as a Psychic
we worked on telepathy
and did dark rituals with candels in the barn to a friend we had found in the field behind my new house
in the hole
where we balanced and bounced on a board
only late at night
over the mouth of Death
but we started having sex at age 12
(his birthday was less than a month before mine)
his Golden Birthday, as they call it
the sex wasn’t very advanced
just handjobs, mostly
and mostly masturbation
it was only after i turned 13
that we started giving blow-jobs
— a cue from a 26 year old i worked with at the time
that i decided Sex (with him) was Boring.
i told him so
‘ we used to do all sorts of things together…
we lived in our imaginations
and now we just see how many times we can cum in a night
— it’s boring.. i want to have less sex and more of other things ‘
but instead
we stopped being friends
i then became friends with kids who were intelligent
i mean
dorks who were intelligent
freaks, really
sex with them was less of an issue
because i had already started then
a relationship with another guy of 32, when i turned 14
it became very clear to me at that point that if you had sex with friends
they would turn boring
so i never tried to have sex with them
we explored other worlds together
in magik
and Art
Films and Novels
(before i had mostly read Greek Myths, some sci-fi and some fantasy (all the Tolkien)
they introduced me to Ginsberg and Morrissey and Wilde
but also to Satre and Camus and Kafka
we would do drugs together (mostly pot)
and travel to other levels of being
when we started taking LSD and mushrooms together
at the age of 19
things completely when somewhere else
and lost in the desert
naked
on the night of the solstace
i begged them to go
they said
“we’re going”
of course
i wasn’t trying to get them to go away
i wanted to leave the Earth
i wanted to Go
they said
“we’re going”
i said
‘ wait! ‘
“common”
‘ how? ‘
they would look at me
“common”
‘ but how? i don’t know how to? ‘
i couldn’t even ask the question
it’s like in my dreams
i can be walking down a street
and just step up into the sky
fly across the town
or over the wall
or… just through it.
How?
how do you walk across the room?
How do you Swim? or Breathe? or Dream?
“common, let’s go”
‘ i want to … but how? am i ready yet? how are you going? ‘
“dominic. don’t talk. common, let’s go”
‘ but… ‘
perplexed i just watched them
their eyes begged me
this wasn’t happening in this reality anyway
they were telling me
just step out of it
leave it
come HERE
But
How?
i’ve made it clear, ok?
Eating is great
sex sure is fancy
yeah! drugs and TV.. YEAH!
but i need more than that
i know there IS more than that
i’ve done it with people
the Leo Snakes i knew would just go there with me
we’d put our heads and our bases together
touching one or another and transmitting through the illusion of the distance
with drugs
or not
we could be there
Right there with It
i’ve even got there with a friend on a bench in a public square in a small french town a few years ago
just looking at eachother in reality
and extending far beyond even the Here and Now
into the Eternity.
fully alive.
but it’s so rare!
and such a struggle!
what the fuck?
and it seems to bore everyone to death!
Literally!
people don’t want to talk about it.
they change the subject
some look visibly offended
like i’m violating some sacred code
some just dissapear
go to sleep
i believe that Everyone is aware of Everything
and do as much as they can to forget it
forget it every night
have countless thoughts and attempts at remembering it
[ create art, do yoga, pray, fuck, take drugs, watch movies, read books, perform… listen ]
and at other times, and often fairly regularly
work with the dull exactitude of a Pendulum
to wipe it out, blur it, disolve it, burn it away.
forget it so hard that they commit to the ultimate act of forgetfulness
and Die
get out of all the responsibily
or Even just the Awareness of it
{what’s so scary? not a threat in sight! you just can not handle… you just can’t handle Love}
it’s what i really want, oK?
why’s it so hard for me?
and why is it so hard for us to talk about it?
and why can’t i just Go?
not even to Leave
but to exist on that further level of awareness
Really. if there is any one interested
even just as an experiment
or as a guide
or as a tourist!
common
let’s go.

it’s always surprising
when we have to look in the mirror
and admit
“It happended to me!”
last night
i lay naked in front of the fire
sweat glistening on my skin
though at 3000ft
cold night air
moon shinging bright
the fire i’d built had kept me not only warm
but HOT
i couldn’t sleep
Leo snorning beside me
i prayed to clear all my warts
and the heat through the bottom of the ball of my right foot was too intense
the mirror made a creak above the mantle
and i rushed to the computer:
onto Amazon.com
.com!
.com!
i ordered 81$ worth of stuff!
so many cheap books
and must get enough new stuff to qualify for Super Saver Discount!
and don’t forget “The Faggots and their Friends!”
so many things that slip through the mind
like whispy coulds
in the night sky
before the bleary eyes
of a boy trying to stay awake
this is the first time i’ve been ruled by compulision to run to the computer late at night
and
BUY BUY BUY!
i felt i needed something
something so important
and somewhere in the middle of the process i forgot what it was
but i got something anyway
i hope it fills it
while i lay and stare at the fire
… i wonder

When i came back from England at the age of 18
i very quickly Died back in Indiana
there were many many nights of being drunk to vomit and blackness
in an effort convince myself i didn’t do what i had just done:
come back to indiana.
the summer was endlessly depressing
with “old friends” occasionally coming over to see me again
hear my stories
— it didn’t last long because i was so fucking misearable that most of them didn’t make that mistake twice
this girl i used to know
— all you fags of my generation know her
: she’s kinda short, very round
a goth girl
and making me mix tapes explaining how much she’s in love with me.
(she was the first person to put false eye-lashes on me and do me up in full goth make-up)
She decided she was leaving Indiana
going to go live with a cousin of her’s in Rhode Island
(it was only months later she moved to New Orleans to be a Vampire)
she’d picked up quite a cocaine habit since i saw her last
and the few times i hung out with her that summer
i was subjected to it every time
however
the last time
she called me
and asked me to go to dinner with her and her mom
she used to love her mom
but in the year i’d been away
her mother had married some rich guy
got a face-lift, a boob-job and a tummy-tuck
and Heather now Hated her.
she didn’t want to have to sit at the table with her alone
rather, with no one on her side
Heather’s mom was bringing along old friends of the family
(whom Heather refered to as “her stupid hippy friends”)
for some reason
i just don’t consider middle-age people as “hippies”
perhaps it’s my optimism… my perverted kind of hope:
if you’re still a Hipster that late in your career there really is no hope left.
anyway
my trip to England had done a very important thing for me
and that was letting me live for a time NOT seething in hatred
i had put down all of my anger and judgements
(which were killing me before i left… but i’ll tell that story another time)
so that i would be allowed to experience things freshly…
(instead of just being caught in my own cycles)
so the stupid hippy friends didn’t bother me
they seemed like nice people
very much the people they were…
one of them owned a Yoga school up in northern Indiana
right on the tip of Lake Michigan
she invited me up to learn…
That summer
i had spent all my days off from work driving around the states:
Indiana to Illinois
Indiana to Ohio
Indiana to Kentucky
Indiana to Michigan
and the
occasional just driving around Indiana
as i really didn’t know anything about the place (though i’d lived there 17 years)
i didn’ t know anyone
and i was new to the Internet
so hadn’t yet really learned how to meet people around the state
(not that i really wanted to at the time: i was reveling in my depression as i often do in indiana)
so
it came to pass
that i went to visit Marsha up in Michigan City
she offered me to take care of her kids: Dakota and Kiva
and i could take a class of yoga from each of her and her husband, Don, every day that they taught one at the house
(Don went to Chicago once a week)
it was pretty amazing for me
i fell into it naturally
and the balance of taking care of the kids and Helping both of them with projects
(building things, cleaning things, … computer things…)
it stopped me drinking and smoking pot and everything
for the first time since returning from england
i felt ALIVE again
so alive…
i remember feeling the depths of the earth with every step i’d take
the flows of air and prana
the tangible energy that would vortex through my body as i moved
always High
it was amazing…
and then i went back to my parent’s house
and the black pit of muck that was the emotional medium there
clogged me up and made me instantly sick
— i was layed out for a week of misery
and stopped doing yoga right there.
there were times when i would remember it
but it hurt so much there: to feel life more fully in such a sad and poisonous place
(yeah, my “home”… the place i grew up. UGH)
i did yoga occasionally once i left there
NYC… not very much
but i got really sick in Tuscon Arizona near the end of 1997
i’d been snorting riddlin, taking trucker speed… cocaine.. drunk all the time again… lots of bad sex
got arrested shoplifting, etc etc
and decided i needed to stop my train wreck
and started eating healthy, stopped smoking again, and started doing yoga every day
(once again, kinda poisonous environment… but still so close to home: living with Trevis)
the Yoga had, once again, an amazing affect
i began to notice that every time i stopped doing yoga
i was gradually decline into unconsciousness
and when i started again
everything on my body would hurt
but the more i did it
i would realize that the Pain wasn’t pain…
it was my body trying to talk with me
and if i did yoga enough to get into it
and listen
i would learn so much about myself and… Everything
(laughs)
the word Yoga means “union”
Still
i’ve very rarely taken classes
those first two weeks are the only steady classes i’ve ever taken
but i always meet people who do yoga
sometimes we do it together
some times they teach me something i didn’t know
and i’ll work with that pose til i learn it
when i lived at Heartwood in 2000
there were daily yoga classes
but they were Iyengar
and holding Downward Dog for 15 minutes was just too much for me
i very quicly stopped going to that regularily
but i’d started going to Billy and Faery gatherings as well
and there was always someone leading yoga
or at least people doing it
and i taught and learned many things there
i took a Kundalini Class with my mother in 2003
and the Spanish boy, Danny
taught me a few great positions
so many
and also
my logic works like this:
Yoga was not a book given from god
or was it?
as far as i know
the body taught the Yogis
so i listen to my body
and combine everything i’ve learned from Tae Kwon Do
grade school PE class
wrestling
qi-gung
yoga…
i do a little bit every day
sometimes a few hours
sometimes a few minutes
many times through the day…
this year i started taking classes down in San Francisco
at the Faery House
monday night’s at 6 we do Ashtanga for 2 hours, then have a pot luck dinner
the great thing about the Faery House
is it is always Clothing Optional
Yoga included
so i do yoga
sweat dripping off my balls…
Ashtanga is really intense
but So Beautiful!
once again
i don’t find it Too difficult
it seems to come naturally
(well, most of the poses, though some of them are a bit strange- i can do them)
last week
i was really tired
still newly off that fast
and still not sleeping enough
so the first part of the class was very difficult
struggling
but
the most important part of Yoga is Breathing
“Pranayama”
what we breathe is Air, yeah, but Air infused with Prana
that is
Life
consciouly pulling in Prana from the nose
but also through every part of the entire body
from the sky, the earth and everything in between
(i also include pulling in life from the infinite source inside of me)
so
consiously pulling in life
i fed myself
became fuller and stronger and more alive
til it was, once again, easy to be in Yoga
i realized that i hadn’t been breathing through my crown chakra… for how long?
(that is the top of the head… it has 1000 petals… infinite connexions to everything in the universe.. )
it was, of course, like sucking on a powerline
[but like a lover]
jolting through my body
making everything more vibrant…
it was only shortly after that
that He brought us into Shivasana
( where Shiva, who’s constant dancing brings this world of illusions into being, lies down and dies to let the infinite possiblity of the universe dance on top of him )
when i learned this from Don and Marsha
they accentuated lying with the heart chakra open
so there i was, laying on my back working my heart open
when i remembered the Reiki i had cast on the room a few days ago
— was still there… healing loving balancing energy filling the room
pouring into my heart
and then bursting out from my heart and filling not only the room
but every aspect of my existance
it was the first time in my life i felt my father loved me
(i mean, i have understood that… intellectually… for a long time… but never felt it)
there was an image of him [not physically him… but his being…] reaching out to me and handing me a gift… of love
oh, always how it is
being reminded of love
could i carry this awareness with me ALL the time?
always share it
always receive it?
perhaps
if i were in yoga all the time

We were seperated by a river
i was on one side
and you were on the other, with a whole group of people
but we were communicating
talking, yeah, but very close, it was more than that
but we couldn’t touch
couldn’t cross
it was more like a barrier
and out of this group of people
came an older man
from behind you
he put his arms around you
we were seperated by the Lithe
couldn’t reach eachother in body
but were still deeply connected and communicating
even with all of those still in your life
[we were together]

when i left the injuns
i was already late to meet Lucien at the Lodge
but stopped by the Gulch
because i was down there
and still had never had a satisfying experience there
(probably never will, boy)
i saw one hot guy
but he walked out just after seeing me
— must have missed the lunch rush
so i walked off looking for a buss
of course
no buss
i hiked up the hills all the way to sutter
then caught a buss down to Van Ness
and went into the old Scottish Rite Masonic Lodge
Lucien was in pretty High Stress mode
which i find irritating
and felt myself a bit over my head in what he wanted me to do
and what i had expected
which was very little..
i set up a light show (which i have never done before… but Lucien figured that i can figure out anything just by looking at it… which i mostly can… so did)
then helped decorate tables, stuff programs, etc…
i asked him if he needed more help
or could i possibly just lie down and rest for a bit
he said
“you don’t need to relax: you are a walking meditation: you’re a Yogi… you’re the model of calm”
which still surprises the hell out of me when people view me like that
coz i still remember when i was a little anger-ball as a teenager
walking around screaming at people (or just screaming)
projecting all tension/fear/anger/sadness like an exploding star
now people often see me as peaceful/enlightened/calm
OK.
still, i remember
no matter how much of a mess i was
crazy
whatever
people still came to me when they needed someone to listen
and i would do that
a gift. a talent: Listening.
no matter how broken or needy i am
i can ground and help other people ground
better strangers, of course
coz my lovers i desire that service from sometimes as well
and sometimes we clash
before the i met Armistead Maupin
we danced around eachother
his new lover is a guy i met at my first Naraya
it’s such a small…
ahhhmmm
seemed i knew lots of people
high society, almost
it seemed so strange
i went off to hide
but wanted to talk…
i saw timmy
and a boy named Chuck
i nibbled on the salmon and roe and margarita chicken
drinking down rum and cranberry
a glass of redwine and my stomach bit back
great to see Mark Wiegle again
dance around stage
having a great time
his cover of “Jenny, Jenny” (you know: “eight six seven five three oh ni-y-ine!”) was great… “Jimmy, Jimmy”, of course
but by the time everything was done and cleaned up and put away
i was exhausted yet again
at 2 am
sitting in the back seet of Jeff’s small car (all crammed in yet again)
after dropping off Lucien, then Veronica
(just Chuck and i… we made out because we were in SF in the back seat of a car by ourselves at 2am… how could we not?)
but i got home to hear the lovers fighting in the bedroom
and went out on to the night porch to enjoy the night wind
wishing things could be different than that
i stayed out there til he came storming out into the living room
i walked by
he prentended nothing was wrong and asked how i was doing
“Tired”
Marty was in the bedroom
and i just hugged him
took off my clothes
and went to sleep.