Kills me every time

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Fragments

I stood behind you in line today, contemplating the back of your head and the curlicue at the nape of your neck, and it struck me that I know a piece of you, now, here in this moment, that you do not even know. This fragment of you is mine, this moment a page in your book, and I am the main character. How many pages are there like this one, pages of you that you have not read? Maybe you jogged down a busy sidewalk and ten pairs of eyes observed you in a flash. And all you know are the lampposts stringing ahead of you.

Camping in Fraser, CO

Drove to the mountains this past weekend to go camping just past Winter Park in Fraser. It was a foggy, gloomy, rainy Saturday...

And a bare bones campground...

Got a new tent for my birthday this year, and I love it, so easy to put up. It started to rain as I was setting up, so then I climbed inside and took a 4-hour afternoon nap, aahhh...

Sunday morning. Woke up with ice on the tent. The outer shell was frozen stiff. brr!

And totally unrelated...Mindy attacking Mac with love...

When spacetime gets foamy

The auction at the end of the universe is where all of the defective black holes are being sold to the lowest bidder.

I finally love Mondays

On Monday nights I go from work to poetry class, and then from poetry class to harmonica class. Favorite day of the week.

Tonight in harmonica class we learned Not Fade Away by Buddy Holly...

He made us play AND sing. And he convinced us that anyone can sing despite what we've been told since childhood. He also said that teaching a beginner harmonica class is like creating the universe. (I couldn't wait for his explanation on this one!) "because it's creating order out of chaos." I died a little laughing, because we all certainly sound like chaos right now. And tonight we also learned some basic blues riffs. I love the instructor so so so much. He is just the most genuinely genuine person I think I've ever met. And his deep, southern twangy voice just makes me want to curl up inside of it and backstroke through some cotton balls while eating buttery grits.

CuddleBunnies!

I died 1,000 times in a row when I walked into the room and saw them like this.

Today probably never happened

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Some photos and such

Driving home from the airport Sunday, I saw a pretty amazing sunset over the Rockies...

Tonight Mindy passed out on her favorite blankie...

Crazy cat lady...

Adorable BFFs...

My favorite neighborhood characters

These guys got painted over with plain 'ol mailbox blue yet again...and a few weeks later they returned...

And they applied too much pressure and ripped the page

It feels like someone is trying to erase my head with a big pink eraser, starting at the temples.

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A bit played out

Radiant remorse,
A matter of course.

Crossing the Rubicon, event horizon,
        fait accompli...

Searching for a new story in the demon transcripts, of slum ruckus and
       fainting dainties.

The uncivil bellboys at unbent hour,
luckstruck providence rise to power.

Whimper

Ginsberg saw the best minds of his generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked…

We have seen the best minds of our generation quarantined to retail registers and fast-food fryers.

Ice cream shoppe

Today I saw a beard, a thick, bushy beard, and immediately thought of how much I would like to crawl inside of it and build a nest. But then it seemed so cliche, to build a nest in a beard. I bet there are tens of poems about building nests in beards. So maybe I would build something else in his beard...and besides, I bet he's tired of people wanting to build nests in there. All the mud and twigs and whatnot. I would go to the city and request a permit to build an ice cream shoppe. I think he would really like an ice cream shoppe in his beard, especially on blistering hot summer days. It's too bad though that his beard is probably already zoned for nests. I would have to submit an application for rezoning the residential area as commercial space. And I would probably have to get all of his neighbors to sign a petition saying it's ok. I wonder what his neighbors would think if I presented them a petition that says "PETITION TO REZONE BEARD AS COMMERCIAL PROPERTY" … I bet they would sign it in a heartbeat when they learned that an ice cream shoppe will be right next door. Where I live now there's an ice cream shoppe that is so incredibly popular that there is always a line out the door and around the block. I think the beard ice cream shoppe will be just as popular. I hope he won't be annoyed at all of the traffic.

Favorite time of day

My favorite time of day is quiet morning in Autumn when I light a stick of sandalwood and place it in the window slightly open and sit knees to chest watching how the cool breeze dances with the smoke, never repeating the same steps.

Midnight over my bones

Whitman's slow-moving and black lines creep endlessly through my body. I feel them tickling my skeleton. Because that's all there is between my bones and skin, just these moving lines, moving, moving. Except they're not black right now. They might be a dark purple, like midnight. Midnight moves over my bones, and now it feels softer and doesn't tickle so much. It feels like clouds moving in front of the moon somewhere deep in there. I look down at the bare skin of my chest and see the glow fade and become brighter as midnight is moving.

Say this out loud really fast over and over

ping pong teeter totter loopty loo curlicue jim jam flim flam

Syntax

Rupture words, the blowing thought essence! Trying do would distort, or mere do ever dandelion... You speaking it subtle; have exaggerate feeling too secret. For to would its words like vibrations you as if on a like. And describe by it.

Somehow they get into these situations

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Labor Day Weekend

My friend Benny was in town from LA for the holiday weekend, and here are a couple of pics from the Denver Botanic Gardens...

And here are my fluffy love muffins all cuddled up in their favorite blanket...

Although Mac isn't making a face that says, hey, this is my favorite blanket...

From light to dark

illuminated eyebeams

bridging the vast

expanse of dreams

a world unsurpassed

of surreal crimson clouds

or full dewy moon

a blanket of frost shrouds

the skeletal womb

589 - The first thought of the day.

"The best way to begin each day well is to think upon awakening whether we could not give at least one person pleasure on this day. If this practice could be accepted as a substitute for the religious habit of prayer, our fellow men would benefit by this change." Nietzsche, Human, All Too Human.

Adoration personified

Adoration contentedly peers outward from a corner. Adoration eats hard-boiled eggs for breakfast, tenderly peeling and discarding the shell, rinsing the egg free of debris before gently taking the first anticipated bite. Adoration reaches out slowly without expectation of touch. Adoration smiles warmly at wide eyes. Adoration rides his bicycle carefree through quiet neighborhood streets, widely swerving from side to side, sometimes raising hands overhead feeling the breeze rush through her fingers. Adoration is an ice cream cone on a warm afternoon when she softly drips down the hand of her beholder.

I think I broke something

I have never broken a bone,
so I don't know what that feels like,
or how annoying it is to have to shower with a plastic bag over my arm.
A sharp, sometimes blinding pain. Tears.
What is it, six to eight weeks in a cast?
Moving on…

I have stubbed my toes countless times,
to the point where most of them are now crooked and slightly lumpy.
One of them doesn't really bend any longer.
Very unattractive.
A wince. Sharp inhale.
Disappointment.