Tuesday, December 08, 2015

mmcdxcii

                                      May the breath
          I draw become a healing touch
           to ease the pain...
                                               —Tim Dlugos

Dlugos continues with “I caused him,” etc.,
but I stop where I stop.  “Here I divide my
heart,” he later notes, and I’ll momentarily
relate.  It is five in the morning, and there
is no logic.  Make notes to defy logic.  Make
another quick note to let logic go.  It is five
in the morning and the computer is making
its noises and Coco the Loco is having dreams,
nightmares, from the look and sound of it (but
how are we to...?)....

I wanted to go dancing earlier, but I passed out
cold while playing games on my phone.  On the
tattered couch.  Fully clothed.  I’ve spent the
duration of the weekend, thus far, here at home,
alone, but for a lovely and all-too-brief visit on
Friday evening with my former neighbor and
classmate (from 1st grade through high school
graduation).  We caught up over a bit at Nara
Sushi on Polk Street before stopping on the
way back to our respective home & hotel at
Trader Joe’s to pick up some groceries together.
She and her husband were off to Napa the next
morning.  I remain here at home, in the fog,
to write it all down.

Which is what I’m literally doing these days.
Writing.  My hand is cramping now, in fact.
So I’ll return to Dlugos’ “Healing the World
from Battery Park.”  In hopes. 

So long for now.  I’ll be back again very soon!