a new marker
stress, unhappiness and striving
will. WILL. burn your brain cells
will fuck you up
will twist your mental mechanism
i left the house with a pot of tea on the stove, heating it to kill ants that invaded it
on top of the toaster oven. did so while i was closing up the house to go out
i swear to you from the kitchen to the back door is nothing more than five paces, five steps. and between putting it on the burner, and reaching the door. i forgot it was there.
(bows head)
the saving grace:
the pot was a stainless steel long time, like seventy year old tea pot.
nothing to ignite, just conducting heat. and it was on high
i was gone for two hours
i need someone to trail me
when stuff like that happens, you no longer trust yourself
and i need to tell you, me, that i was noticing the erosion of memory and skills long time: i am no longer faultless in spelling when i used to be. i never had a good memory let my girlfriend debbie tell it, she would be reminding me of someone from college and i have no earthly recall of the incident, faces or names. i have reached.
that was part a 1 of the evening'
part b2.
i got a painting for my birthday this evening. five months after the fact, no announcement and it is called the chalice. selected for me when i had the option to chose one or get a portrait, i opted for a third choice. i can get the portrait next year. so apropos. chalices are significant to me for all they symbolize. the holy grail. the search of king arthur. the special goblet at the table, the promise of all things to come.
it was when i returned home to hang the painting did i discover the burning tea pot.
the burning tea pot. my first book is titled ant bites. i think burning tea pot has some stories to tell
part c3
so i go to lime with my compere in tow, or i in tow.
and we are talking, of what now i no longer remember
an associate enters, i know she is with two others, another man and woman
when the man approaches, i watch him he watches me,
it is my brother
my father;s first son.
joseph
i got so tizic. nervous. my hands shake, i can feel my spine get unstable
rattling almost. and if you ask me why i cant tell you
but joseph looks just like carl
carl hawked and spit him up/ everything
mouth, nose, eyes, skin tone, teeth formation, mannerism, speech . everything
joseph did not grow up with us. he is two years older than i
and from another mother
i cant tell you the conversation
i was just happy to have a trusted friend present as witness'
i dont talk about where i came from' who i came from, the money
the disinheritance, the treachery, the brokenheartedness, or do i.
my brother did it all for me tonight
it was good to feel that comraderie
it was good to find myself in another
someone knows of what i would speak
we have the same stories
well my stories post 1988
to hear him speak of the death of our little brother
and to see his tears
it was kind of something i need to go back to
it is like he is more scarred than i am
being the outside looking in child
he said to my friend, i would not lie to tell you
not for me, but to see my sister
she have no right to be on the outside
suffering striving
it was wild
two women came out to lime with a friend
they bought drinks
he never got to their table
all the while i spoke to him
i had the dream, that i was no longer alone
but at the same time...knowing...
you never know
part d4
i go to my second home to eat.
hadnt eaten since 11. a breakfast sandwich
then we went out for our patos
he meets his school friend
they talk
he leaves me because more of my inside people show up
his friend and neighbor asks him: "you leaving her amongst all these wolves"
i thought that was telling on many levels
they start talking politics, this indian man'
hear name: umricka dass
a contractor at powergen, tells us he is megawatt on millions'
he not on box drains. the man said that
so he asks me why am i....
he says it is a signifier of things i do not have in my life, wanting
i thought that was poignant
i tell him because of stress
{like leaving a tea pot on high fire with not nary a remembrance}
i tell him i have not worked in five years' '
his response?
this man who can tell us his vibration is not box drains'
looks at me in my soigne hair up
skirt and top with sparkles
i could go work in kfc
i have no idea why i did not cuss him
but it was profound to me
it showed me how these fuckers view people
based on their lens
and how they judge where you belong, what is your station and vibration'
they can be the nicest appearing'
but the blood from their words is dripping
he is no mr. box drain
but i am kfc'
racist bitch muther fkr
i bet he would never look at any of his brainless daughters
not even of athletic form
and assign them such
beware
when racists try to befriend you
so now i am home
wetting plants at one o;clock in the morning
smile. candid camera
part e 5
i get inside
and think of my mother talking to me of "my lifestyle"'
no hours, total freedom, bohemian
give thanks
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