one knight stand
Last evening went to the local high school track just to breathe some fresh air. Nearly overdosed on burritos and beer at a work function. How can I be so compulsive? Wayne came over and we walked on the new track, he told me about his recent trip to Seatac.
one knight stand
RECRUITING STUDENTS TO PROVIDE
RECREATION AND COMPANIONSHIP TO DISABLED
Richard, you’re on the steps when I
open up. All day you sprawl on my office
sofa. You’re the last at night when
I close and wonder if it’s worth it.
Richard, my shuffling sally ann couture
of star trek pins, garlands of puka shells,
peanut buttered beard, jar lid eyes from the
new souls bin; you’re a grizzly in
unwashed overalls, army boots
and mardi gras beads
but just not as graceful.
And I hate it when you spook off young
women who come to tell me we’d be a
good fit for their classes and commute
and there’s no paper to write, right?
You sit at their feet, anoint their ankles in
feathers, grunts, giggles and string, ask
about boyfriends, show off a Navajo
headband shouting love for Las Vegas
and buttons that command kisses because
you’re Italian or Irish or Croatian
That smile they smile for you
means we will not see them anymore;
they leave and I slam darts into the door.
THE BLUE SWALLOW MOTEL
somewhere pass the left nut of scorpio
in a bed of creaks and rusty screws
in august of not so new mexico
you swallow every drop of my blues
shaman kaiyotes and wiley sage do their tricks
and we, sleeplessly, return to sixty-six
YOUNG GUARD AT ABU GHRAIB
your parents weren’t home when
you played slut barbie-the-stripper
grinding ken between unbending legs
mixed in g.i. joe and skipper
you did detainees the same way
all hooded, bound, naked, drenched
with terror’s sour fecal bouquet,
balled them up like snakes mating
now we see what was seen
by your buddies’ sony recorders
now we hear those timeless words:
You were only obeying orders
WHEN LOVE ENDS, WORLDS DIE
gardens go unplanted, children unconceived,
beaches and bookstores miss us no more;
mortgages unsigned, accounts unopened,
wild mountain passes now impassable;
beneath glass a diamond glisequins
like a fixed star, distant and intractable
one knight stand
Went with SJ to the resouvoir road late this morning. It was hot. Had been some time since I walked over a mile. Maybe we covered three miles. Bemused who I was with rather than DL. Took a few flower close up pictures.
Got word from Helena that her website was gone. Sure enough, the one I set up for her in July 2002 was deactivated by geocities. Reactivated it. Another high stress individual wrapped up in her own reality or sense of reality so tightly.
one knight stand
Memorial Day. What a dream I had. Very vivid and detailed as to the mood and the images. With someone else I am to die by arrows firing-squad style. It's a dark day and numerous men armed with bows are dressed darkly and off to a distance. My biggest concern is that they're going to do it right and wondering if gunshot would be more ex pedient. I am trying to make a brave show, especially for the person who is to be killed with me. I take off my jacket and perhaps my shirt to not impede the arrows. I am looking for family or loved ones to give my upper clothing to. It's not clear who they are in the dream although there is a distinct feeling that Sarah, my youngest, is there. I am acutely conscious of what items there might be in my pockets, not wanting her or them to be embarassed.
All I recall is being taken to execution, not the actual act itself and thinking what an unpleasant way to die. I wonder if this is a memory -- individual or collective -- from before my latest birth. The endings of romance has been on my mind, perhaps the whole dream is analogous to that -- breaking off an affair is baring one's self to very personal and painful criticism, maybe even retributions.
A reminder of the need of courage. Courage to go it alone. Courage to cut off relationships with other people---but it also takes courage to have good relationships -- at least relationrafts; to create value with others
I wanted to go to the beach today but it's already too late. With the price of gas inching towards $3.00 a gallon and beyond, that short trip is beginning to look more and more like an investment. Need to sit down and write and send out.
Been eating like anything this past week. My traditional way to fill the psychological void. Food does not argue with me how I should manage my life, food does not ask for jewelry, get bossy or get fat. But now I'm fattening up myself for the altar of over-consumption, diabetes and obesities. Interesting that a plural can be made of that horrible word.
one knight stand
Sweetheart, our main differences centered on attitudes about money, about spending. I grew up poor and been through the rollercoaster of the dot com era. My ideas about economizing are downright Spartan to you, if not miserly. As much as I tried (and I did try), I just could not see diamonds in the same way as you. I wanted someone I could share a survivor scenario with. You wanted me to be the other half of a Toyota forerunner commercial -- happy, debt defying consumerism.
Even our ideas about work were polarized. I would easily put in a 12 or more hour day without blinking. You began to see my company as something that took my time away from you. I am sure I sound like a psychotic workacholic but I do believe it when I say that work makes all other things possible.
I miss holding you, I miss the intimacies, I miss listening to you. A few times I wanted to call you or write you, offer you friendship in lieu of passion and love. And something tells me to not to, that a clean, definite break is the best thing now. My physicality is too much attuned to yours. Within seconds of seeing you, I would be embracing and kissing you like I had just come home from a business trip instead of to that place outside of my heart.
As a Buddhist, I keep telling myself that happiness is within me, not outside. But if that happiness could be personified, it would pretty much look like you. You made a lot of concessions to me but I think we were both running out of changes. You'll never read this. I'll never tell you where to read this. It's far better that I'm just another benighted male who couldn't handle a high energy woman. Thank you for trying so hard to be compatible with a stubborn, scared loner. I will always love you.
one knight stand
I am not sure what is more stressful or sad to me. That she does not call, has not since we broke up last Sunday night or the certain knowledge that she will never call. I miss the connection of emotions. I don't miss a lot of the context, but the stability of having someone I loved and who loved me to simply talk to. I feel like I'm back in the isolation cell.