Hence the name Trestles...
Trestles:
I lived a five minute drive from this
amazing spot...then the world ate it.
I retreated...

I am sometimes weary
Of this search for drama in a nutshell,
The opera of the tragic sense,
Which I would be gladly rid of.
A shameless keyhole god
Keeps spying on my worst,
Incontinently glued
To the obscene dumb show
Of the debasers of currency
In the private cabinet...
Those who stood
Naked with me,
Adorable, adored,
On the magnet-head
Of the inexorable pin.
Why should I be bothered with it?

whyever undone

In the middle of the night I woke up...on top of the right side of my head I felt a tingling.
As if that area was asleep like a foot that had been coiled under my body
while sitting on the floor for too long.
Same with the right side of my lips.
I knew this was a consequence of my headaches...
I had stopped the medication which has held them at bay two week previous.
A stroke?
No a bad dream, a misplaced pillow, a transitory neurological miscommunication.
Maybe. Now I live waiting for the clusters to resume.
A bad dream that has infiltrated my waking reality.

Gaijin

fitful...my sleep these days...had a dream this morning in which someone came into a very spartan and light house. I was in an open white kitchen looking out toward the backyard. This undefined person walked in with a basket of vegetables freshly picked from the garden. Handing me the basket they said,
"Gaijin."
When I woke up I wrote this on a pad in our office:
"Yes, I am a foreigner here...in my life.
But maybe, despite that fact,
I will find something of purity."

sometimes you just want to...that's all

especially when a storm's coming