august 15





there is a wisp of freedom which comes with a losslakeview

a freedom to not be judged by those you loved;
the one who wishes you were more Catholic;
the one who wished you were more like him;
and the one who wished the world was more like him.


RIP Papa, Guillermo, Ernie.






























august 14 2020
 
7:14 pm


as i sit to write, a loon wails over the lake.

i wish i did not have this story to tell. but i have to tell it.

...

as a child, you visit cottages, some more than others
and some adults rent cottages
which are filled with things from another era

as you rifle through the drawers and cupboards
hunting for the "good enough" tool
you find strangers things which may have belonged to strangers to the strangers
or so it seems.
who bought that old green strainer?
where did these glasses with cartoon characters come from?
and how many church picnics has this tupperware attended.

and then there is a really hardcore garlic press.
it's the one sitting in this cottage's kitchen.
it was bought by me.
in 1994.

it made a

Description

Rijsttafel for sixteen people. donna put the orange rinds in her teeth and we took pictures.
it made endless moussakas for people who thought they didn't like moussaka.
it made the most beautiful Mediterranean pizzas.
it made pesto and dinner and dinner and dinner.


DescriptionRijsttafel

  .... to be continued ...
























august 14 2020
 
6:47 am

is it one decision
welcome, welcome, ringing ears.
vacuum
mattress cover







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august 13 2020
 
8:09am

one eye still closed, waiting for the right amount of caffeine and trying to appear invisible
because no matter what i do
i am never invisible
e
i used to be invisible;
i used to have peace;
all that is gone
all those years of silence;
settling;
gone
and it shows in my face
in my one open eye
and in my silence.



















 

august 12 2020
7:35 am

these moments alone used to be free of charge: daily:
and without guilt
then they became precious
now they are impossible.

perhaps not everyone requires them.
but i do.
















august 10 2020

6:08pm

 
if i have to only say what you want to hear
if i have to choose my words
and monitor my thoughts
to accommodate you
                ...

                            then you drain me.


and as i age, and age, and age,
you drain me more
and more
and more.









august 9 2020
1:02pm

there are different aesthetic ideals;
the one planned and expensive
and curated:
and the one randomly assembled with things that are "good enough"
which become the building they live in because someone hung them there.

............................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................

livingroom







 

august 4 2020
7:52am

while the words may not spill onto this page
they slosh around in my head
daily

periodically, very large periods i sleep
from the time i sleep until the time i wake
and a nostalgia comes over me
it's called feeling human...

when i wake before 8 and have time to wake before life hits
to listen to the rain
to make a bed or two
and to wake in peace
and quiet
and silence

and normal thoughts come to my mind
like is it someone's birthday today
or perhaps mine
and then memories of the old days
pass me by

while i brush them off
as quickly as they come

because really,
who needs that

i prefer to recall the old days of my parents:
the musicals in the school basement
the crazy fishing stories
the innocence


and a dream brainiac idea is forming in my  head
it's got things on the wall: a museum of sorts:
and now dishtowels from Germany
with captions

essentially a museum of my life
something i never imagined
while i built it.



















august 1 2020

9.27am

i know it's brutal
you're alone;




and in the blink of an eye
the swoosh of a screen door
the day
the most beautiful sunshine;
the temperature
the calm
the pureness of august first a a new page
pulled from under me
cracked in half;
perhaps that is how i dealt with what was my past
the peace of my thoughts
the moments alone

so am i.