During the Christmas Party

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Christmas Eve Evening

On Christmas Eve evening it is raining. I walk into the apartment, and I close the door. As if someone was watching me, the phone rings.

"Hello?"

"You need to come over an screw me." says Claire on the phone.

"Screw?" I reply, and I look out my window. Claire is standing in the window in her underwear, across the street at the Bella Arms Apartments, with its delicate scroll-work on pastel faded facade. As I look at her curves I notice a lot of other people are looking at her, in the street.

"Come over an fuck me right now." says Claire on the phone, gyrating with special emphasis in the lighted window, for everyone to see.

I hang up, and I go to the bathroom. 

In the middle of my sojourn, I hear a knocking a the door. It is three pissed off policemen.

"Would you please go see the lady across the way?"

"Why?"

"Or we'll arrest her."

It is lightly raining. I go across the way, past the transmitting news-truck and the crowd of people, into the Bella Arms. When I slam the door to Claire's apartment, she wraps her legs around me.

"I'm glad you didn't want them to arrest me." says Claire, nibbling on my earlobe.

The crowd outside roars with approval, and this reminds me everyone on the street can see us. Claire  feels nice. What the hell can you do? I close the blinds.

ING Looking fo IST

ING got up, and felt good. ING decided to go looking for IST. It was such a perfect morning, with things flecked with snow, nice and brisk. The sun was pulling him along. When ING found out at the old apartment that IST had a new boyfriend, and they had gone out of town for the holidays, ING understood. At a cafe ING wrote IST a little text message, wishing her the best and for a Happy New Year, that he was thinking of her. She wrote back right away, and it said "Thanks, what a nice surprise to see your text, and you, too."

Poem - Poem Addressed to December About How I Should Take a Nap

dedicated to Richard Brautigan


december

i should
take a


nap.



-----

Irvine
December
2012

A Short Story About Being Blue and Thinking About Richard Brautigan and How His Mailman Probably Hated Him

When I feel blue, I think about Richard Brautigan, living in Bolinas. He lived there many years, and I'm sure it seemed a long time, with the drinking he was doing. The mailman probably hated him.


----

Irvine
December
2012

A Short Story About the Sky and Hearing a Helicopter

for Richard Brautigan

I hear a helicopter, then it is gone. The sky looks like marble.


-----

Irvine
December
2012

The Hardware Store is One Year Away

The alien spoke: "We all have short lives -- I will live 50,000 years. Over in the blink of an eye. So don't cry, you live on a nice little blue planet, and everything is within easy reach. Imagine if you lived like we do, with things like the hardware store being 1 year away, and a trip to the bathroom takes a month and a half."

Poem - Lorem Ipsum Dolor

"Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipisicing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. Excepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id est laborum."

                                                      --- Anonymous


And thus I obsess
I fret
and seek out puzzles that cannot
be known

as if it were
Understandable
or to be Understood
is to Understand

We must
be willing to admit
We'll know nothing
if we have to

in a broken funny
World

Fighting the American Civil War and the Siege of Stalingrad

I realize today that for about 18 consecutive years, I have been fighting the American Civil War in my head, and also participating in the Siege of Stalingrad. This explains my reading material: all about the American Civil War, and Stalingrad. I swore that I was not up to anything, but it was suspicious -- in the recent past I'd purposely read some wildly off-topic books about medieval Japanese origami or environmentally friendly pesticide-free gardening to prove to myself I was not fighting the American Civil War and the Siege of Stalingrad. But luck is in my corner -- I found a 12 step program called Vicariously Historical Anonymous, which is a blend of AA and Al-Anon, and I'll go to my first meeting when I'm done with the Second Battle of Bull Run and the retaking of the Red October Tractor Works.

Press-Conference with the Secretary of the Inferior

The Secretary of the Inferior holds a press-conference. He mumbles under the hot lights, bobbles a stack of notes, drops them on the floor, picks them up out of order. Very uncomfortable in his cheap suit, the reporters harass him. This is the Secretary's second meeting with the press, the first one was an unmitigated disaster, quite off topic -- it rapidly became unprofessional and very personal. This time, gallantly, the Secretary of the Inferior attempts to play along. But he becomes mired in his own words, his head begins to drop, he looks down, he mumbles, ashamed.

Poem - (no title)

desparate for a smoke
i have a roaring headache
i watch john carter of mars
i hate it but watch it

quitting smoking i can't think
like evel knievel the pain
zooms up the ramp
it won't clear the jump

down down down
i smile and laugh feathers
i am bubbles i am sea foam
i surrender

Humans Are Very Bony

We run a medical-spa, we turn our customers into hot-dogs. Average healthy person makes 200 of them --  highest quality -- tastes like veal. We sell them in China. Only 200, per victim, you ask? Yeah -- humans are very bony.

Poem - the growing clout/ of dreams

the growing clout
of dreams

more sleepers
become rich

and have no
recall on how


-----

to the San Jose Mercury News
11.09.12

Poem -- the farther away you get the slower it seems

you're going away
the farther away you get the slower it seems

new things come between us
the farther away you get the slower it seems

memories fade
keen funny details blunt
every day becomes more normal
more staid

the farther away you get the slower it seems

Poem - the stopping place

the stopping place
on the side of the road
just hidden by a bend

far enough away from town

over there an old mattress
that looks like a huge
shrugged off skin

bottles and toilet paper
spent cartridges bullet holes
and condoms

--------

Inyo
1993

Poem - Dream Bike

in the middle of the night
you wake me up with a call
i was in a dream that i built a long bicycle
and everyone in the dream world
who saw it was frightening
they liked it because the bike
was metallic electric green

we talked and i fell back asleep
but the transportation was lost to me
and i know so are you

Knowing the End of the World

Today I found out the world is ending, and exactly when, and I don't care to tell anyone. I don't care to tell because I'd have to convince them, and besides who cares? If you knew the world was ending, what the hell could you do for all of us, if you really knew the world was going to end?

Poem - Acceptance

i can't seem to do the right thing
this might be what should be happening

when i try to interfere in things
that are none of my business

so i refrain from doing much of anything
not out of fear but out of acceptance

but i'll be goddamned if you ask me
for advice i'll give it

Poem - of the gigantic night

in the darkest concentrated time
of the gigantic night

one kid let out of prison
is dead before morning

in less than two hours
& he was invincible in his mind

Poem - Where the Prisoners are Released

to the jail at orange county
city of orange

at 1 am a half moon rises
in the west

punctuated by
one star

the sounds of drunken
screaming

from the TGI Friday's
across the street

bottles break girls
laugh

you can't see anything
but hear everything

in the black courtyard where
prisoners are released

*

2 am the moon is
higher

the sheriff lets them out
in groups

some with nowhere
to go

others can't
wait

they have elaborate
plans

----

9.08
The City Drive
Orange, CA