oct. 15

 

I’m writing in silence with no ftp

Like someone has corked me;

And I can’t keep quiet, o no no no no

 

The morning was shifted after trampolining

Into the late night

And I scan the house for an ftp out of here

Sipping watery espresso from a large blue mug

Which came free with a 75 dollar donation to public television

Sometime in the 1990s.

 

 

Indeed I used to watch tv

Indeed I used to watch public American tv

Indeed I used to have lots of 75 dollars to give to them

For the sake of a large blue mug for watery espresso

 

Sometimes I’m ashamed

Sometimes I’m proud

 

What I did for love.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



oct. 13

 

Friday the thirteenth let’s move out of funk

The man will be home soon

The pigs are clean and me too

 

A few more hours of clicktey clack

Sun shines

Fish swim

 

 

Later

 

The swiss man is drunk in Dresden;

 

 

 

 

 



oct. 12

 

I am so angry

To have to be so very strong

For those

Who are so very weak

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 




oct. 11

 

I have given myself away

To your service

The service of you

I’m a hard place and a rock

Crashing on your shore

 

The big screen fools me;

The cinematographer’s eyes are not the real world

Or are they

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My Mac died during this period of time………………………………………..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 




september 24

I am seeing to be understood:
to be heard:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 




september 21

an achy hip and I trudged up a hill with a heavy bag of shoes

while messaging American strangers with one hand

and calculating ring money

under the bright blue sky

 

…I ached

 

…I sung

 

…I smiled

 

squarely it is a good day

payday

With zeros that disappear fast

And twos and fours

 

 

rue is ruefully quiet;

maurice was kicked from the infps

brain wires often cross as I connect to my past in real life

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

september 19

a magical bus ride through the east end of montreal

left me singing to strangers

and doing backflips on a grassy knoll;

it was a carnival in the street;

everyone was there;

bus #8 took me to a place that looked like Paris

where an English speaking woman wasn’t as surprised as I was

but agreed it looked a lot like Paris

until a recycling bin woke me

from that world

and into this one

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


september 18

painful




 

 

 

 

september 11

what makes you persist;
goals for success
or very strong espresso

as this date fades into history
so does everything


 















september 10

during the night my mind writes these stories
to be penned in morning
in all their glory

but in the morning
my mind is yawning
and barely able
to fake a fable



it's not me, i'm not a storm watcher; i'm not a singer nor a lawyer
the force that pushes she and i to power, that which wills us beyond the rest
is not tangible nor sustainable nor plannable, as we wade through life
yes
we wade through life
making the best of the storms which hit us
jumping branches
and ducking trees
but running through the forest nonetheless;

unable to voice our exact opposition
to everything around us

unable to actually make a permanent connection
yet moored, to the desire to do so.














september 3


pano

mountain morning
with a fading battery
the man reads about Gaussian approximations and the toddler's mother is far too happy
before the three dollar espresso is done.

rain pitter patters over the rolling mountains on our day off;
passerby's eat breakfast
happenstance has it,
i drank wine by a campfire with a neuroscientist;
drove through winding mountains,
and slept.

the good news is i slept;
he slept;
we count smaller blessings these days





 









september 1



several espressos later, my brain wakes to the internal sounds of michael buble
the electrician also has high Te, as he talks away to himself while working.
he has no way of knowing that this is comforting to me.

as the mEp enters it's third decade, and a drill pierces my ears, this body won't move to avoid the pain;
the world is a blur with whatever is ailing me now, awoke twice with bad dreams lasting a few seconds
after the man darted into the kitchen to relieve himself

 








































































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