Friday, February 25, 2011

Then Came The Dawn

Where's the politics? The world's aflame and you're fucking around. Give us some spin. And be funny as you do it. Sorry. The grand stage is crowded. Countless people shouting their opinions. Pick a voice and go with it. Plenty for everyone. The century I'm in is no less chaotic. It's what the future holds.

Small green spider motionless. Meditating? What runs through arachnid synapses? If it's looking to eat, it picked the wrong season. No flies or ants around. It'll starve then dry up like the spider bodies in my old basement. A breath and they're dust. I turn my writing light up, a spider shadow's cast. Maybe it'll chase the shadow as dogs chase their tails. Maybe I'm stalling. More likely drunk.

Digging my car out of the snow. Nissan caked with drifts. Tires buried in exhaust-blackened ice. A dirt shovel's needed to break through. Arms and upper chest start to strain. People my age die doing this. I feel it for the first time. New snow falls. I'm the only fool on the block digging. The other cars sleep undisturbed. Fuck it. I'm going back indoors. I'd rather be comfortable should death come. Johnny Cash singing Reaper ballads.

Late calls to the west coast. It's 2:30 here. Can't sleep. Won't write. Nothing but voice mails. I'm going crazy. The bite of this birch beer is the only contact I have. How do other people lose it? What's their final straw? Thoughts of them snapping soothe me. Projection of madness is balm. Good thing I didn't become a teacher.

Back to the notebooks. I don't remember writing half of these pages. Sentences crossed out. Arrows in all directions. Circled phrases, some starred. The whole thing's beautiful and absurd. The noise raging in my head sometimes makes sense. But I can only snare bits of it. So much more gets away. Grabbing a nice chunk is glorious. Occasionally you don't feel the debris.

Rumors of a new Three Stooges film continue. I say give the boys guns. Make them martial artists. Get them laid. I wanna hear Curly come. Moe moans while Larry has locks of hair ripped out by a frenzied woman who thinks he's an oil magnate. Add sledgehammer and hack saw (maybe Shemp?) and it's a Stooge orgy. Next: Abbott and Costello Learn To Obey.