The tumult
to live where
you would be
loved.
—Richard Caddel
He is such the provocateur. I got mad,
balked, decided to sleep in the living room.
Now it’s a rainy day at Lori’s with a shrimp
omelet. Brunch,
the horizon of...what do you
call it?
Words. The horizon of
forgotten words.
I move to another planet where I try to be a friend.
What’s in an attempt?
Completely insane blood
pressure.
Driving down to Carmel with today, tonight, and
tomorrow. Rainy
days on my own. There is no
antidote for an extrovert. Billy says I have to go.
Several anniversaries are in the stew.
I read a compendium entitled Flashes of Neon on
an Excavated Bay. Each page turned is another
name escaping memory.
I don’t mind living
like that because I really don’t mind living.
I do rather try to enjoy it without taking it
hostage. What’s
in a friendly attempt?
