another short story idea

Imagine a bed with two lovers way up high. they cannot see how far the fall would be beneath them and there is nothing at all to see around them or upwards, other than a dull light nothingness almost like the color of a cloud. they hang their arms and legs off the side and imagine what it would be like to fall. they jump on the bed and so can understand the concept of gravity and falling. they wonder what it would be like to jump and not land on the bed. they are born this way, in love and only knowing one another and their limited mattress life, thought they don’t see it as limited, because it is all they’ve ever known. until one morning, one lover wakes up to find that the other is not there. he wonders if she somehow ascended, but is almost certain that she has fallen. then he wonders whether it was intentional or by accident. his life changes completely now, without her. he only knew life with another. he only knew life in love. now he finds himself thinking to himself instead of sharing everything out loud. he has no outlet for the physical expression of his love. he begins a relationship with himself, because that is the only person there is left to have a relationship with, unless he were to make the intentional decision to jump off the bed. he even has a passing thought that he might find her if he were to do so.

short story idea

imagine a world where every human is born into anarchy and must live the first 18 years of their life in that anarchy and then on the 18th birthday can decide which government they wish to participate in: A capitalistic democracy, a communist or socialist state, a dictatorship with a preselected dictator, or to remain an anarchy. you have to imagine the invalids, deadbeats, and criminals would either remain in anarchy or otherwise choose the capitalist or the socialist state and pose as a capitalist or socialist in order to take advantage of the system. So then there should also be tests in order to gain access to each system. Presumably the highest standards would be for the cavalier society that wants competitive and capable individuals to make the market more efficient and productive the second tier would be the socialist state that still requires work from individuals but cares less of individuals less capable, dealership would have less standards because presumably the demand for this government would be low in the first place and the dictator would need lower standards just to have some volunteers. And of course the anarchy would have no standards at all that would be the state of nature. So therefore what you decide to do with the first 18 years of your life determines in a very definite way your quality-of-life thereafter and also completely voluntarySocial contract for the government you participate in. It should be similar i imagine to preordained marriage in the sense that you’re more committed to an institution that you choose yourself.

insider

you can’t think like that

when you’re in it

wondering why

you’re not out

because before

entering in

from the outside

you decided

of your own free will

to do so

and must remember

not to think

like an outsider

once you’re in

churn faster

i feel that everything

is progressing

moving forward

as it must

in order for

space

that would be

stagnant

to churn

and turn over

turning into

something else

which

in this case

is so good

that I try

to churn faster

coffee

i expect the world

to develop faster

for me

having had

my coffee

and expecting time

to move faster

to match my perception

of space

coming sooner

morning computer work

Deep and pitted in the mental pathway digging deeper seated upright coffee keep me here elbows at ninety degree angles on desk chair armrests perfectly parallel to the desk on which keyboard rests and fingers creating on the screen what keeps mind so focused and actually enjoying with the coffee high this work as much as I would relaxing

I get giddy like a kid again looking forward and hoping excited for what’s to come like everything’s ahead and coming my way

feeling good wanting to say spread about but keeping quiet to let it be and hopefully last this feeling like a medicine spreading and making my skin warm in a sunny day at lunchtime when i am about to eat and have made plans with baby tonight

spendthrift

I am loose with my money in the early morning or late at night when the day seems like it may not come and my savings will be useless

empathy

I wonder if he is like me

I wonder as he walks by

looking me in the eyes

and then wondering

from his perspective

if he knows I am like him

the two sides of art

Is art what happens naturally? What you think on your own before it’s shared? Even before your superego can get a hold of what your dreaming id produced in the night? Or is it what is edited and curated for the masses? Brought to the table for conversation so that it may be consumed and enjoyed by many more than yourself. For art seems also to be the two sides of the same coin on the sidewalk or street no matter where in the world I walk, and these two sides are the individual and the community, the ego and society. For as much as we wish to be ourselves, we wouldn’t want to be anything if not for others; and so too for our art. An artist, like me, wants so much to be unique and one-of-a-kind. The same type as a musician that refuses to listen to “pop” music on the radio or disdains sell-outs for producing art aimed at commercial success. But if the market accurately reflects the demands of the masses, though surely not individual, it seems to me to be just as much “art” as the avant-garde off in the corner trying to sniff out anything at all that hasn’t been seen before.

a quarter after four (09/26/19)

with the heat hot like it is i can’t sleep on an indian summer morning and have to get out closed tight from under the bed sheets baking in there so i can explode and spread out in the combustion and at least spread out of my skin that the sticky sheets close in

this morning has it like i know i need last night to do what is been planning to but without any energy left over after a long day so had to sleep but now up early at a quarter after four sitting at the edge of the bed wondering what place opens this early in this city so i can get out of the studio while baby is still sleeping and get to work

friends across the street

i saw

across the street

in an apartment

which normally

has its shades drawn

two friends

sitting at a table

talking

then two more friends

opened the front door

and came in through

the long hallway

and the friends

at the table

raised their arms

and the friends

coming in

raised their arms too

and all embraced

and it made me happy

as i had just gotten home

and stood

in my own apartment

alone

sure

if you are sure

of what you say

you will say it

loud and clear

the first time

and not repeat

less names in nature

there are more

things with names

walking down

the city street

than there are

walking on a trail

in the woods

—or at least more

of the names

that i know

—being that i know

the makes

and models of cars

and names for

certain types of people

better than

the species of trees

or types of stone

—so when in the city

i can say about

the businessman

and the BMW

or the gas prices

at $3.95

but in the forest

i can only say

there are trees,

rivers and rocks

and lots of them

sagging clothes rod

a sagging

metal clothes rod

in the closet

where

the hangers hang

with heavy sweaters

too often

in the middle

—still the rod

serves its purpose

just as well

as a straight rod

holding clothes

hanging

above the floor

—until the day

it finally snaps

and we’ll have to

buy a new one

plant person in row 18

in the aisle seat

of row eighteen

on the airplane

bound for oakland

another passenger

i watch

from the window seat

holds out her hand

for the flight attendant

with spread fingers

as if her arm

were a tree branch

and the stewardess

coming by with her cart

rather than

pour water in a cup

and hand it to her

would walk by

with a spray bottle

and spray her

humanoid

branch hand

for sustenance

expensive art #2

i think of that painting

we passed on

that i liked

and stood there

looking at

for some time

on the second floor

of an eclectic gallery

until baby asked

if we should get it

and i asked the attendant

the price

which is when

we passed

and left

—thinking back now

i haven’t spent

that money

on anything else

i’ve liked

nearly that much

sunflower palm

the feeling

of exacticity

you get

observing

something

multi-colored

against

a monochrome

surface

like a handful

of sunflower seeds

in a peachy palm

car nap #2

head rested against

the rained on window

watching

the wet white line

at road’s edge

trucks passing

shocking

so close

coming the other way

on the other side

of the middle

yellow line

watercolor memory

not this one

painted on my eyes

a realist landscape

passed through

a watercolor filter

behind closed eyelids

maintained by some

abstract light

getting through

and some memory

refining the edges

car nap

a short trip napped out

with clear tucked in

points of entry

and untucked exits

while all else

dreamed between

remains unchartered

car window rain

water droplets

on the outside

of the car window

making a light

pitter patter

each

its own shape

some thin

and long

others small

and circular

each growing larger

as another

lands on top

gaining

enough weight

to slide

slightly down

like a snowball

absorbing mass

from other droplets

on the descent

streaking

faster

until joining

the fallen ‘fore

in a small stream

at the base

of the window

in the absence

only so much

to write about

in the absence out here

quiet

and mostly

staying the same

other than

trees growing

and clouds moving

surely

but so slowly

imperceptibly

nature taking its time

refusing demands

of the human world

to grow faster

unnaturally

needing

an occasional trip

like this

to step off

the giant wheel

that spins

faster than most

thought it would

big sky

they call this place

big sky

i know now

on the back deck

in a rocking chair

looking out

at the expanse

covered in complete

white cloud

without obstruction

other than

the pine trees

that form

the bottom border

of the big sky

water drops

water drops

along the bottom edge

of the wood railing

forty or fifty

along the length

each holding on

out of the corner of my eye

one drops

to splash

on the already wet deck

glancing back

and forth

along the length

trying to catch the moment

when a drop becomes

big and sagging

near the end

and loses its grip

nostalgia

suppose that some times

were better than others

remembering

and wishing to be back there

something now

reminding you

of what was then

to go off into this other place

and time

lived only on after

in a blurring

and erring optimistic

memory

vacation home

all throughout the house

each in its own corner

a book at shelf’s end

an outlet above the baseboard

a stool underneath the desk

cushions on couch

handles and hinges on doors

glass in window panes

lived in sometimes

opened, walked through

twisted, turned on

heated, cooked, cleaned

but often left

just to be a house

out here

alone in the woods

raining outside

raining outside

of the window

ripples

in each puddle

interrupted

by the ripples

of new drops

at some points

of the roof

where the flow

is frequent

there are streams

falling

from the shingle ends

at others points

there are

less frequent drops

making noise

muted

by the window glass

all this from montana (09/20/19)

knowing me on a misty morning like this in big sky Montana looking out from the deck seeing my breath the same color as the clouds the nestle down into the cleavage of the mountains like a woman’s necklaceThe soft and frequent pitter patter of rain that drops on my phone screen and the wet wood will become more frequent and harder later in the day the weather report tells us which is why we walking up early to make the drive to Yellowstone

I knows breeze in cold air in my mouth exhales vapor why I see the same trees this all last night now presumably just a little taller and a little more wet from the night rain chopped firewood place stacked at the mouth of the forest quite a lot of firewood next to two stops that must’ve been the contributors onetreeMust’ve been about twice as thick as the other judging from the chopped wood in the stumps some trees fall and naturally I wonder why those were not first used for the firewood seems like a good alternative to use a dead day instead of shopping at a living thing

on after and into what wouldn’t have been possible prior to what presently is more poignant than trying to remember

It is most often between generics and specifics choosing whether to lift off and leave earth or stay grounded in a real and present reality. The difference between being that with specifics you are committed. There is a time and place and to say one thing starts you down that path so that if you say something completely different halfway through then the reader will say wait a minute, this is not what I expected. Whereas with generics there are mostly pronouns and non-descript adjectives (the types of adjectives that could describe anything).

inward skies drift outward from mind’s eye into What was once water in the lake below now drifted up into vapor from the water surface that reflects it moving on drifting so this sky is a change of sceneThe same clouds that hide the stars at night giving a sense of soft safe protection aboveAround mountain peaks in the distance soon to return earth word in this rain

Inside painting cloud so I’d like a canvas three jobs against it clearly moving just enough to know it’s still real

edited: Inside a painting on the back porch clouds so white like a canvas the trees against it the green trunk spine branched tops defined so clearly against sky moving just enough to know it’s still real compared to trees against the forest so ambiguous seeing a forest for the trees wrapped in a blanket internally warm enough so my breath turns immediately to vapor making it harder to see through the smoke into the painting

unable to tell whether the clouds have changed or not being the same white overhead and no city noise to tell you when people are getting to or leaving work and your hunger the only clock telling you the time since your last meal and maybe tired at some point in the day napping if so in the leather sofa under the vaulted cedar ceiling waking and need needing to or at least laying my head back down and keeping my eyes open thinking as little as possible letting what happen will in the world outside this montana cabin off far away from what i will soon return to

all this from montana (09/19/19)

how to have an experience with water flooring for the white waterfall in between being here and closing my eyes and folded my hands sitting on the rock next to the river or looking up eyes open thinking trying to speak about it this caused a conflict between being realizing realizing to matter now do you talk more specifically like the clusters of white bubbles created by the base of the waterfall that float down the river over and between rocks protruding above the surface easily seen as the water is so clear and broken temper falling into the river poking out of the water lead up against the Rockwall creating a bridge tears of stone face showing years of the riverCutting through the college drone of the water creating a nice background so I can barely hear the edges of my voice just the water going down the right hitting each tear and tell hitting the water in the white

The world rewards persistence Neil says referring to the river cutting through the rocks creating the waterfall right now see it says give something enough time and it will have an impact I think the myself that’s a tragedy of it that we only have so much time

feeling with fingertips plant leaves reaching for the side of the trail here in the crunch of gravel under sneakers my friends carrying on conversations in twos six of us total three sets of two is that with the width of the trail will allow here in the waterfall still has a distance behind us one story takes over everyone listen to the laughs

The trail Narrows now conversations trail off the width only allowing one at a time so you have to turn around to talk to the person behind you so naturally talking last and looking around and keeping to ourselves more

Only so much you could write about the woods with words needing colors to get around the edges of each individual rock or each fine Pineneedle on the trail of varying length a word we’re just say rock or Pineneedle and less mathematically down on hands and knees measuring and describing to the decimal point each size a painting send all these numbers automatically to the eyes so a meditative exercise conjuring up general words to describe a pleasant for scene as if to just repeat the word tree tree tree leaves leaves leaves brock brock brock rock is what I meant to say and these doing the job of words to country up memories of your own nature scenes

creating making more being in what you are see you can see here feel remembering like this before wondering if it is the same and if New how knew where? At the edges? Just barely different? Or completely nothing ever seen before or the same using memory words taught and rememberedOr new words shouted naturally whispered maybe sounds recorded that may not fit letters

Disorienting at the edge of a cliff to look out and see and get so far into that site forgetting your own feet at the edge almost leaning forward into the picture forgetting you’re funny then to waiver and feel the wind remembering your own place and stepping backYour own body and its limitations causing the loss of the site and even more than that you saw it but that you were in it and part of it if not for your physical keeping you bodily

on a straight away sent now good golly getting into it having covered some distance heading the middle part they never seems to end on and on like try not to watch the time to get past farther faster checking stepping

you’re asking too much of your experience want to get to last longer otherwise be more when it is as overwhelms finitely as Humanizer created for Keeping the sensation of touch in your hand only as long as you hold onto what you’ve picked up when you drop it to pick up something else you can not keep what you had before the same as when you turn your head to trade one site for another or walk farther on the trail see to be somewhere else entirely so you must go and taken only what comes when it does and work hard to be taking in Nothing other than what has come

 

one another

i get into

one thing

and find out

there is another

that has come

of the one

so have to

decide whether

to finish the one

and be done with it

or press on

with the other

unplanned for

body and mind

i get more and more

up and outside

realizing

there is a mind

that decides

and sets the body

in motion

and the body then

runs along

until the mind

thinks up

something different

the realization

being that

the mind and body

though supposed

to belong

to the same

are often different

for the mind

that would decide

often does

at first at least

but then becomes

affected

by what the body does

and begins

to think a little differently

relax

it makes me nervous

to fly

when i’ve work

unfinished

i tell baby

before i go

just in case

to publish everything

i’d honestly

rather stay

and not even sleep

until i finish

but i must relax

both because

there will be

what there will

and i have

no control

puzzle

a puzzle piece

i found

fitting perfectly

between

what i had before

beginning and end

but not much more

than muddle

without that middle

bringing it all

together

excuse for my boss

tried to rise

but in that time

that i decided to wake

after i’d gotten

my head off the pillow

but sometime before

i could get my feet

on the floor

my body pushed out

of my tired mind

that waking thought

and here i am now

finally waking

but sometime after

when i first

tried to rise

bench nap (09/15/19)

an old man passed out plainly in broad daylight his arm stretched out resting on top of the bench his head laid-back and mouth wide-open add a day darker did yesterday and the leaves blowAlong the cement in a cool breeze making a scratching noise the wind in my ears as I walked bye

universal identity (09/14/19)

so long as you are yourself you must be that you cannot release completely just like the universe cannot you maybe part of it and wishing to melt into it but the same principle applied to one individual knowing that the universe at large is also an individual and some cents would cause everything to unravel so you must hold together as a building block of everythingIf everything is to remain built and not let loose and subtly  destroyed

REMINDER

nothing added to The Girl on California Street or The Speech-To-Text Experiment from this point on from September 28

diamond (09/14/19)

It’s like a diamond with the pressure from my work and the poetry gets crystallized in the middle when I thought it was all gone and was forcing it only getting out some that wasn’t really that good so it decided to take break which is when it was allowed to crystallize as it did in my subconscious and become more naturally those slightly less more quality coming from what I actually felt as opposed to what I attempted to manufactureAnd the pressure of being helpful so to stay energized and motivated working on something more of the world less creative but I have that energy mat by the equal and opposite reaction of art so the harder I work the more I create

blank space (09/14/19)

awake and into the world remembering how things are especially around lunchtime when you are reminded you must eat and go to the sandwich shop to pay with dollars that you must have kept track of and seeing all the other people eating and doing other things that they’re supposed to getting into this world all day going back to the office and sitting at your desk and doing the job that you’re supposed to that you’ve done before so keeping on this track and almost going on auto pilotIt becoming easy to keep up with your routine and home at night to rest and then wake up when there’s a chance that it’s really all new having had some time to close your eyes and think of nothing so for getting partially what is usually done and more personally what it is that you were supposed to do and not yet being so hungry nor needing more rest so being able to get away from food and shelter for a short while and left off into a blank space where could creation really a curse for me running about and waving my arms and shouting gibberish throwing it all gets the campus words that made out rhyme and notes that may be definite are attached to a world that must make senseBut here is where creation happens created being that which is new and of course must crash land at times bringing nonsense back to the real world what other times you might bring it back and others will say oh yes why have we not had this before

fake (09/14/19)

You can win because you can cheat pushing to appear like a fake plant in the store rather than one that is growing in the wild with only so much water and sunshine each day a plant that was built to constructed to be as big as no matter the materials being no cost and the builder being paid multiple builders even with green to back the world gets constructed this wayAnd sometimes even a fake plant looks real

untitled

My heart has now started to create a reproductive life of its own as I can read what I wrote before and it inspired me to write something related

private studio (09/14/19)

from this apartment inside one drape pulled over and letting lighted half the window mustering energy while music plays and water runs teeth brushing barely morning on a Saturday up earlier the first few voices outside the window generating life and momentum here just ourselves to date contained in a small studio apartment that would stay here if not for the screens connected to what is called the Internet and these keyboards with letters that constitute the English language and phones that now have computers inside of themWith photos that we took last night using the camera that is also part of the same phone baby laying in bed and editing the photos I sitting here on the couch typing about last night perfectly happy to stay inside especially with this connection to the rest of the world where we can capture art on technology and send it out to our friendsAnd even new people who have become our friendsOdd to have such a connection while at the same time being so private

never enough (09/14/19)

it’ll never be enough i know now watching my friends make their money and remembering at one point in 2005 or earlier when i was about ten two dollars was a lot for what my brother and i could buy at the corner store but now in san francisco 2019 i believe more of the stories about greedy men seeing how more made is seamlessly spent and getting used to what can be afforded but not only that but more so seeing those around you (and especially those just slightly above you) forgetting that ten year old happy with a bag of candy

baby model

baby modeling for me

taking photos

she gets this

glassy look in her eyes

like she’s forgotten

who she is

and can relax

in front of the camera

keyless entry front door (09/14/19)

buttons being pressed promptly so the system may learn you as a keeper of the code that may gain admittance here at least just for that knowledge and the ability to press it in and hear the buzz that only holds the door open so long enough to get through and close it behind you so the next must also be a keeper to get through

careful now (09/14/19)

things fall that i fumble with losing touch with reality in the particular ways that physical matter requires to interact such that it does not make complete sense to me why a coffee cup should stand still on an even table and slide in a slant so i’m cautious about putting anything down anywhere and walk carefully like a man on stilts quickly to each light pole holding on like the world might tip upside down at any moment

second dimension

i try to get the coffee high

with the weed don’t worry

and baby pushing me forward

while meditation holds me present

so ending up in the middle

of a four-direction compass

staying steady on the first dimension

while riding all the time

on the second

universal line

there is a line created

by baby’s body

when she lays

on her left side

facing me

facing the window

from which the morning light

comes over my shoulder

and onto her chest

making a shadow

where her breast

has its fullness

creating a dark line

like a fish hook

that any human

can recognize

as the outline

of one side

of a woman’s chest

i wonder if

i wonder if

feeling is the same

as being felt

i wonder if

movie actors have time

to be themselves

i wonder if

those who run the world

know that they do

i wonder if

work will go by

fast or slow

i wonder if

our landlord will finally

fix our fridge today

i wonder if

baby

really loves me

i wonder if

the company

will make it

i wonder if

my brother

will be alright

i wonder if

sleeping with baby

makes my back

better or worse

i wonder if

or when

my body will start to fail

like my dad’s

i wonder if

my dad was like me

when he was young

i wonder if

my mom

still has hope

i wonder if

i’m doing the right thing

i wonder if

i’ll feel the same way

when i’m older

blocks being blocks

big concrete blocks

from construction

clanging in the lift

mixing with the idle motor

making street noise

in the early morning

marking a new city day

with the spirit of building

and “must be done”

settling into their new

truck bucket home

before being transported

to be blocks elsewhere

violet beauregarde

nettles nay say

no regard

sounds like

violet beauregarde

a movie character

fictional

who i mentioned

to baby last night

about eating

too many blueberries

and turning blue

now creeping

this morning

into my

writing rhyming

subconscious

this one’s cheap

for me

it is like this

i know

for you

it may not be

i see

and for he

who knows

whether to be

or not

let’s find him

and ask him

hey mister

why not

midweek motivation

needing to get into

this particular place

where no one need

overwhelms my

motivation

making it easier

to step off

of the curb

and not land

on the street

but rise up

even above

the building tops

even on

a wednesday

when i worked today

and will work tomorrow

but can

still stay lifted

in a midweek

of moments like this

leaving

and not coming back

impossible shot

walking

on the sidewalk

looking up

seeing a spire

in the skyline

holding up

my phone

trying

to catch it

but not

without zoom

so i walk

further

up montgomery

holding my phone

watching the spire

grow nearer

until pine

i realize

the angle

is impossible

with another building

in the way

half a poem

my brain is always

trying to write

but i have to

hold it back

and only write

when it’s right

when it gets to me

in a moment

all at once

so i don’t start in

and end up

with just

half a poem

hanging off

screen glare

that glare

creeps crawls

shining sneaking

from the ceiling light

through open space

and onto the phone screen

that makes a cutting

bright white light

like a knife

getting into my eye

and cutting past

my cornea

into my brain

confusing everything

like a shock

all of a sudden

i can’t see

and have to turn

the phone screen

back over

oven timer

i look at the clock

above the stove

afraid to see

the time

but see instead

the oven timer

counting down

at about

three and a half

minutes left

—i am thankful

to see a time

with no consequence

for my life

other than

there are two-hundred

and ten seconds

remaining

until i need to take

the hard boiled eggs

off the burner

full bus

there are twenty

or so seats filled

when i step on

the one bus

at six in the morning

—i take my seat

toward the back

and close my eyes

like i usually do

to get some extra rest

on the way to work

—i listen for the beeps

which are each

another passenger

scanning their card

and stepping on

—i can imagine

how full

the bus has become

but i can not see

until, listening

for my stop,

the announcer says

“montgomery”

and i open my eyes

to see forty

or fifty people now

standing in the aisles

holding the hand rails

shoulder to shoulder

—standing up

i have to say

“excuse me”

and fight through

a maze

to get off

candle dance

what comes from

the candle flame

dancing through

its glass holder

and mixing with

the shelf light

together

make quite a show

on the outside

of the white

shower curtain

so standing

under the water

watching

i forget

how long it’s been

mirror image

i look at myself

in the mirror

in the dark

for long enough

that i wonder

if it is really me

or just another

dark object

in the room

—i stand still

for as long

as i can bear

thinking

i may no longer

be myself

but have become

something else

—until i can’t

take it any longer

and raise my arms

to see

in the mirror

the almost unidentified

dark object

do the same

—and so can

crawl back into bed

with less fear

of waking up

as something else

neighbor’s TV

a massive TV

at the neighbor’s

so big

i can see

through the window

all the way

across the street

—i think of

getting out

my binoculars

to watch

what they’re watching

a thing itself

less as a thing itself

more as its parts

that which is becoming

resulting from

what happens naturally

just as it would

without a forethought

for what is made

from constituent parts

more attention on each part

as if it were

a whole itself

making one by one

giving each no title

no summary

until after the fact

when it’s all said and done

and can be seen

for what it is

then can finally

be called

a thing itself

all come crashing down (09/07/19)

I worry it will all come crashing down like what is happened won’t continue or I’ll forget to do how to do what I’ve done the tower built into the sky when all the sudden the foundation and the bottom floors CampbellWatching almost to not continue to not make progress for fear that it will disappear blah blah blah this one is a good isn’t good is not not not not

honey communism

a steady stream

of honey

from the bottle

held

unnecessarily high

above the plate

forming at first

globbed tiers

like stalagmites

holding their form

only briefly

before melting

into an undistinguished

larger glob

making sense to me

as an individual

at first unique

then born into

a uniform mass

always calculating (09/07/19)

carried on counting keeping careful tabs calculating making sure amounts match up perfectly placed weights balancing so that records can be kept track of current and up-to-date figuring for what otherwise seems ambiguous and uncounted and therefore not understood or able to be made useful determining where there was too much and where there was two little reallocating and budgeting to spend just enough for a return of increasing percentage learning from numbers to make more and sometimes subtract accessTo ensure that cost your profits the numbers are put to work

independence to interdependence (09/07/19)

feeling mattering more as long as you’re all right OK enough carrying on what is actually mattering only in so far as it is connected by some formula or calculation to how you feel not being completely off the sun still generally making warm and feel good but still sometimes the opposite sun burning and turning away so what there is mattering almost not at all except for what will kill and end everything needing to pay particular attention to danger but otherwise not mattering color words shapes time and events passing having no effect other than the effect that you won’t be interpreting fact by way of feeling and giving human weight to matter only in the case that it is interpreted or thought of or felt but otherwise just being on its own meaningless almost I want to say but being so humanist and I thought nothing could possibly could possibly matter beyond or outside of us similar to the thought I have about my own ego myself mattery more so I thought until age 23 or so but now thinking at least that man matters others matter but that empathy still not extending outside my species I suppose the next step by age 50 or soOr maybe quicker that empathy will extend to living things and then maybe before dying it will extend to everything and maybe nothing as well

consume and produce (09/07/19)

looking after things differently even when extras and efficiency is often overlooked into the access that would seem to provide enough even after quite some time having consumed and consumed with an attitude of leaving nothing left but still more comes and produces even for ungrateful hunger asking nothing in return

cafe choreography on saturday morning (09/07/19)

watching a cafe work cups stacked in a six or seven towers each twenty tall newcomers falling into line as they have before knowing the drill paying with bills or more often cards nowadays that move around the right numbers to motivate the workers to show up in the morning and do their jobs well outing coffee over ice opening black fridge doors beneath the counter that reveal glowing white interiors full of milk and other vital morning sustenance putting lids on cups for to-goers and grinding more beans clicking cash register keys sliding glass doors that both keep pastries fresh at the same time as having them be on display for customers choosing pointing through the glass that one no that one to the left right there yes the gurgle of the frothy milk foam spout steam and more beans grinding customers waiting with their arms crossed waiting for their cup to be called and then smiling stepping forward the operation running smoothly like choreography for a play where everyone has rehearsed their parts well and act candid as if it were not a shower but really real life so the hunger and thirst seems real and they are genuinely excited to receive their coffee or bagel but relaxed not so serious like they might not eat otherwise knowing there is another cafe next door but casually and expecting it having gotten used to a life of nearly guaranteed survival that the world of order has created which makes cafe choreographed machines possible

care about what

i used to care about surviving, then i cared about truth. now i care about art, which i’ll hold onto as long as i can, until eventually caring about nothing, whether by death or an ascetic buddhist spirituality.

highway painter

i know a man

under the highway

on second street;

he paints all day

on scraps of cardboard

—i noticed today

that he paints white

over the cardboard

that he has already painted

with multi-colored lines

in broad strokes

and then paces along the curb

with his hands behind his back

waiting for

the white paint to dry

so he can paint again

sick apartment tree

i thought our tree,

less yellow leaves

and branches perky,

seeming to respond well

being nearer the window,

was looking better

—but now i’m not sure

it depending on the day

and my mood

how things appear

as i look at them

at once sad and drooping

and then not long after

joyous and upright

this being the same tree

that we’re talking about

which, in reality,

is just the same, all along

at the taqueria after work (09/05/19)

let it be left and lost that Which doesn’t carry on itself after anything more important then the next step looking back and seeing where it came from but forgetting to look forward and keep stepping striding even running without paying any mind to it created his legs that run as long as it keeps going and becoming the past not mattering except for its contribution to exist now

Typing a whole thing out and having it be lost the phone accidentally erasing and forcing me to think of whether it was worth it in the first place

It’s not the beginning or end of the world just eat it is good for you without becoming too hungry or too satisfied keeping on the straight road careful not to dig or fly too far

short religious story

when i went home to kansas for a short while in june, i put on a st. christopher necklace that i found in a ceramic box in the kitchen counter. i wore it for the time i was home and it made my mom happy to see her soon wearing a symbol of his catholic upbringing. when i got back to san francisco the st. christopher pendant fell of the second day i was back, and i thought that was ironic. now i just wear the silver necklace. i suppose my mom still thinks i am wearing it with the pendant attached, and i surely won’t be telling her otherwise.

the fog in the evening (09/04/19)

The fog locks you down and you were here you were going nowhere else this is it look up and all you see is white even the upper half of the buildings are cut off like anybody on the 20th floor and higher doesn’t exist walking on the sidewalk you feel safe like if the world were to tip upside down you just fall into the cushions of the clouds no hope of a son that is going to set or riser a moon that comes up at night just this eternal day the same amount of light getting through the same temperature and the same thing to be done over and over until it’s finished The fog is for working world and nothing else

loud kisses

her kisses are loud in my ear

like you wouldn’t expect

from such a soft thing

supposed to be sweet

but crashing loud, hurting even

so close to the drum

sitting in the sun in the early afternoon (09/04/19)

I was really in a good cut that riding car down the side of the sidewalk seeming wider than usual feeling good about what I had written reading it sometime after forgetting it’s what I wrote I need it just to avoid the normal rushed hours like noon for lunch at 8 AM for the commute to work if I just wake up a little earlier at six to go to lunch at 1 PM I can get out on my own and see what I came forWithout having to dodge her out so many other pedestrians and wait my turn just to see

after about it now left got up from the low but if it’s a good feeling in my chest and happy just to walk in the breeze like I forget to be thankful for so often smiling for no reason and looking curiously everywhere curiously at what has appeared to be so many times but is now somehow different seeming like an opportunity an opening at offer unless I danger less like a car that might hop the curb and kill meMore like a modern Momento of innovation of them

sometimes thinking nothing could go wrong like now sitting in the sun in the early afternoon and other times thinking everything already has gone wrong and can’t ever be changed or get better swinging like this and wondering how to stay but when I get out and spend some time and try to doctorate everything changes and can’t experience the art of emotion throwing me this way and that out of my control which being myself I love meant to a certain degree because I’m the one who asked to go through it but from the outside if I were to see it like a book or a movie but quite enjoy the art of it after all it is the highs and the lows and even the sideways that are most interesting to sit with my eyes closed and be calm is not that externally interesting like a movie but maybe if we had to take the camera they could see what goes inside goes on inside of mind and the colors and feelings that take place they’re dark and silently maybe then i would prefer that movie

holding hands

take the most

exacting and useful

appendages

of the human body

—usually

always working

doing something

un-idle—

and make one

do nothing,

for a change,

other than hold

another

of its own kind

between

i get exhausted

checking the distance between

what needs to be done

and what could be,

thinking of all the possibilities

in between

one big surge after a nap on sunday (08/31/19)

needing it all to be productive even wanting my leisure time to make more for me having gotten into this bad habit of looking at everything in terms of its value and looking at myself in terms only of what value i can produce and this value system being minimally investigated though i suspect it is based on monetary american capitalist fear-based material systems and i have let them get hold of me in an effort i thought some time ago to lean into it for a while so that at some point i would have enough to live comfortable and be released and able to build my own value system with enough “free” time — yet that time has not come and i am getting antsy but know that if i break early before my money is made then i will return to the same problem having not enough money to survive and slipping below the standard of life required for the value system i would build based on non-monetary tenets so i realize the two worlds are linked by the ends of the world’s monetary system and the means of my own idealist world i cannot yet surmise that a complete break is possible especially with the lingering suspicion that a human being animal may not be able to release from his nature whereas the monetary pursuit is an advanced version of the primal pursuit for food and shelter so really wanting to split from my nature and remembering again that this is not possible – which i would not forget except for the ethereal moments when the sky opens up and shines down on the earth in a way i want to look at the world forever or a feeling for a person i love overwhelms me in a moment which i wish would last forever such that i could exit time in that moment and have that be all there is, yet it is this trade, which we do not necessarily choose to make though i think we would choose it if given the option, where the barter for more space is always to endure more time. if you want to see, feel, hear or otherwise sense the world differently than you are sensing it right now then you must endure more time. and this goes on whether we like it or not more time always coming and brining with it subtle changes in space that sometimes you don’t notice, when you’re sleeping for example, and other times you notice very second, like the final seconds in a football match. and in those moments, in a small amount of time, we reach up to the ethereal opening in the sky, but then are pulled back earthward by our animal needs to eat and otherwise care for our bodies that might die if not cared for correctly

takes time what i want to blast all at once in one big surge like a dam holding back the largest river which breaks at only one point and the jet stream that comes forth from that small crack the force of a whole river coming through that one point but even more than that because the whole river must still wait patiently for that small opening so i want the same small opening but the whole river at once rushing through with a blast that could destroy planets the same as a thousand taxis through the entrance of one roll bridge or a thousand camels through the eye of one needle which is the same impossibility i suppose i am asking for in this case that which jesus said was impossible for the rich man to pass into heaven with all his belongings but i care not for my belongings but rather do not want to leave this earth here to pass into heaven which is what i suppose i really am trying to bring all at once the whole word into the ethereal much along with me and still be able to display it to the world as art making me realize now that the belongings which i am most burdened by are not my possessions but my attachment to others and to myself

at the hotel laying on the bed (08/31/19)

leading on after into the microphone especially when I have nothing good to say not mattering as much that the speech to text messes it up is the original might not of been good anyhow just finding time like laying in the hotel bed before going out to the pool to say something anything really into the phone thinking something and stopping myself because thinking it might not be good but then knowing Shirley my ego has a hand in it and this being the main mistake when trying to write stream of consciousness but the complete lack of self consciousness during the kids through the window in the pool outside a little after 4 PM waiting for her food to settle so we can join them another long pause that the text doesn’t pick up like music would or a live performance when someone in the crowd would shout out what the hell are you doing not saying anything up there that I would showShout back I’m thinking but really not needing to do that now just needing to let it flow but can’t maybe a swim well maybe swing will help

at the same time you still have to be listening to what you’re saying Jane not to listen to just say and let it go otherwise what is being said is affected by what was said and what will be said and what is being sad all the time can’t be gotten through without what is behind or ahead you need to close my eyes and not look at the screen as the words appear but then being conscious of the speech to text turning off after 20 or 30 seconds seconds as it does needing to fix the phone or ask able to show me howLike just now I had to restart it you can tell by the capital letter and I’m looking at my screen and conscious of that when I write best ascending into no knowledge of what I’m doing and also conscious now as talking too much about the process I need to talk about the white walls in the orange circle painted over and over on the back wall in the white drape go to bed in the window letting in sunlight at 4 PM and baby here next to me patiently waiting and listening like she always does

Leaning my head off the edge of the bed with nothing else to say at the hotel having gotten out of town working a lot recently but this negatively affecting my writing not being able to get into the mindset and create when doing the same rudimentary tasks over and over and just wanting to think of nothing when I get home and spend time with baby even now out of town but I’m usually inspired a little less so but it’s all right I suppose work going well and the art will come back I hope

neither not even having energy your inspiration to get down let’s go but I can still get something down just talking about the ceiling line always the ceiling laying down looking up in the sound outside just nothing inspired in the situation so if I say my situation and what I see which I usually am excited about relaxed enough in this case but just not necessarily excited like it’s artistic just satisfactory and making me comfortable but the inspiration idea that this is really anyDifferent than what anybody else is doing on a regular basis without that it’s hard to talk a lot and fast about it so really just mumbling right now and trying hard to no avail laying on the bed in my towel after a swim waiting for baby to finish her shower and then take a nap and maybe dinner later not really matter and I think needing to remember now just to be thankful for when I’m comfortable and not having to create so much all the time

speech to text working well now and wanting to take advantage of it when my words are worth written down clearly but at the same time becoming conscious of the fact that there is no excuse if what is written isn’t any good so the instruments of production are precise enough that the fault lies only with the producer and really having nothing to sayIn this moment other than what the technology might mess up for me

baby bringing on to me

baby brought onto me

a distracting feeling

for her and nothing

else, even the road

driving, trying to

steer straight

or the hotel, trying

to drop my bags

and take off my jacket

but can’t even

baby pulling me

through the open door

shutting out behind us

the attendant and

any other distractions

pillow fight

there are objects

you can throw

soft enough

to be caught

like a pillow

letting fly

plumes of feathers

and other

soft things

thrown

alright

until

a night lamp

in the corner

gets knocked over

or someone

grabs a tea kettle

or something else

heavy instead

driving a rental car on the one (08/31/19)

In the car driving making reality matter more whereas when just sitting shape shifting when I look at it could be one thing or another no matter what in the driver seat with a hand on the wheel what there is

In the car driving making reality better more that it does as I said with my hands folded in a chair on a bench at the park for example watching as things pass by people walk and branches blowing all of it can change as artistically create whether I want to imagine the people at something else like blobs expanding and contracting or the trees as castles so constantly re-creating the world as it isn’t what I wanted to be this big part of my heart to constantly reimagine and see differently however this is not possible and driving if you see a stop sign and imagine as a green light or see a one-way road and imagine it has two there will be trouble reality as it is needs to stay that way in order of everybody on the road to be following the same rules such that artist shouldn’t be allowed to drive I don’t think not because they don’t want to fall the rules or because they’re not capable of knowing them but because their mind will re-create and then them to be understood differently on the road to where everyone understanding things the same is the most important part of traffic working correctly so now behind the wheel on the one heading south with baby driving for the first time in a while it is difficult for me especially wanting to get out my phone and write this and also seeing a red light and thinking of all I’ve written about red lights and what they made and how they can be interpreted differently but in this case I need to just determine it is exactly what it is a red light that means stop and Nothing More no Rick re-creating it as something else especially not getting distracted and thinking about it so much that I don’t notice when it turns greenAlso this been wanting to go faster and faster and not necessarily follow in line and dodger on cars regardless of what I can’t see on either side that because it’s the right thing to do it because it will get As to our destinations faster and more so just because it’s what I feel and what I want but those are not the borders for driving feelings and desires is very much about following the rules driving there’s nothing really to do except for exactly where you’re supposed to and that is just not what I’m used to doing

The red light opens up and ceases to become a red light reaching past the scene itself as it appears just to my eyes and seeing into a submerged layer of the reality such that almost the feeling or the emotion of it gets through to me in my eyes Shirley are still seeing in the sense that they are processing the light but something deeper takesThe primary focus of my attention it is the same when I write sometimes and can imagine how somebody will read it usually one particular person when I’m deep in conversation or exchanging messages so I right now to create a grammar recording to have a sound read out loud read over again I can imagine they will skip the articles or read the verbs loud I need a few synonym verbs to really give the idea of the action one after another not separated by commas as they should be for conveying what is meantAs I feel it whether that is how it is normally communicate it or not

I love sitting shotgun consuming what I see through the windows but at the same time want to control the wheel controlling what the windows show and where we go but have trouble doing both at the same time sitting in the driver seat needing to pay attention to the road but wanting to recline my seat and watch writing the passing scenery reminding me you cannot be both god and a liver in your created world

I kind a like the headlight take such that you could pick up the pace and go for it not instructed by trees or climate clients crawling down towards the beach whitecaps ordering so blue meeting Paige

signs say call box now open etheldore st cross walk ahead chevron with techron historic moss beach distillery el granada 2 half moon bay 7 speed limit 55 driving by on the one doing about 40 just over the speedometer says signs showing me that trees i always fall the same, just tree, maybe tall or short, or green in spring and orange in fall, but mostly just tree, whereas a sign always has a name like speed limit 50 radar enforced princeton coral reef avenue el granada ave alhambra oceano hotel & spa pillar point harbor and other words telling me where i am and what i ought to see pointing in all directions other than where i am right now and way what i see right here without any sign having to tell me

she holds her lips to the back of my left hand that she holds with her right as we wait in traffic on the one merging two lanes into one so even slower now but not mattering with baby and our music here in the far feeling just fine not even noon with all the road ahead of us down south along the coast

car window theater

driving

in the backseat

(so riding

i suppose)

watching

out the window

i treat

like a movie

with the frame

of the window

as the borders

of the screen

—or a gallery

sitting in

the same chair

staring at

the same picture

that changes

expect that

the picture

is really real

and if you opened

the car door

(once the car

has stopped,

of course)

you could step out

and be born

all of a sudden

into any picture

that just moments

was only painted

on your window

untitled

all along outside even after in goes others who wouldn’t waiting need to wait to just get through the editing phase before going back again to making and benefiting from the momentum of one being surrounded by front and back to learn itself less scrutiny spread out

known city

the city is an ambiguous thing

a mass

a place to be gotten to

but not necessarily understood

or remembered

intimately

like a person living there

able to sit in their apartment

with their eyes closed

and imagine walking on the sidewalk

in any direction

and seeing the storefronts

and usual coffee shop

and even the imagining the worn chair

on the second level

where one usually sits

—the city becomes

a place lived in and known

rather than a general black mass

holding a spot on the map

that one reads

for places imagined

rather than places traveled

and even if you have visited

once or twice

and remember specific places

like what a specific room feels like

the sense of knowing the whole city

and the places you can possibly go

and how to give directions

and where to lead newcomers when they ask

only comes with time

writing poetry

when i write poetry i don’t sit down and employ a creative strategy or exercise to first get an idea and then open a dictionary or other index of words to figure out what will fit the rhyme scheme and meter—going along like this slowly spending time to think between words and building slowly brick by brick like a house. when i write poetry i’m often standing up in an experience that is making me feel or think something and start my fingers typing on my phone with what i can only identify as the energy of the experience itself that comes so fast my fingers can barely keep up and sometimes i don’t recognize what i’ve written until after it’s done

pulsing bathroom floor

the world is shaking moving

making faces at me

in the candle light

the tile floor gyrates

beneath my feet

the little white

hexagon tiles

each bordered

by gray grout

pulse back and forth

confusing my sense

of where my feet bottoms

meet the ground

mocking my

impaired mental state

more speech-to-text from that saturday that i almost lost in my text message history (08/24/19)

You just Gotta go on creating what you do being who you are digging deeper into the trench (edited, was “Trent”) you are born into past what may hold you back seeing others do something similar or different way do you like that you should or should not be looking out ahead and seeing what will come of it or looking backwards and thinking that this doesn’t match with who you are forget all of that it doesn’t matter but were you when you were in it and really beating chugging along wheels are on the rail punches are being thrown the water is boiling it’s time to go now being in it and God that’s it that present that time when it’s just you and you know you’re doing it or maybe somebody’s with you and you’re doing it together but god that’s the moment and all other times you’re just thinking of moments that I’ve been before and why it’s been so long since the next moment that’s to cut that start to come so you wait until it’s upon you and then you’re not prepared and can’t catch your breathBut have to make do with the breath you’ve got to sprint on (edited, was “spread done”) through

just make it won’t you man make more for me now while it’s here because it won’t always be talking in abstracts using adverbs instead of verbs not wanting to commit to much to any given idea right now but rather wanting to just express the feeling generallySitting on the edge of the bed now holding my Head in my hands my elbows on my knees my left finger is resting on the back of my right calf to talking to my phone I can hear the refrigerator in the apartment in the garbage truck outside in the bus that says one California to Gough and Clay looking at my phone surprised that it typed out those street names correctly and the bus takes off leaving me with only it’s Noise and nothing else to talk about the beep of an alarm and tell the car door slams still the fridge wearing onomatopoeia‘s are recorded very well by speech to text always got that word but not this out of the fridge just me alone to talk to myselfAnd being caffeinated so not wanting to do anything else

I don’t really know if it will last but it something right here now to me and that’s for sure a lot of goodness in life at large seems to be this way because it only so much can get to a size or last long enough for Manny to hear over years and in different places and see or however it may be experienced but the vast majority of things which are good seem to be experience on a smaller scale maybe only one person drinking his coffee in the morning on his usual bench watching the morning or lovers that of been together for sometime returning to one another after a brief vacation there are many of the small simple things

there are steps and rules to follow holes to slot quarters in lines to walk between buttons and computer keys to press laundry to fold instructions to read carefully emails to read and delete watches to watch and schedules to be on time for

with love, drugs, and other sorts of emotion, the main problem with getting up high enough is that you have to come back down

human body art

I think it’s interesting to compare the parts of the human body that create art and the parts that consume it. For example our hands create art that our eyes consume in sculpture and painting for example. And our mouths create art that our ears consume in singing for example.

more speech-to-text from that long saturday when baby was gone (08/24/19)

So can’t get a title to figure out ahead of time what the pieces have to get into it and it first overwhelmed reading and having more and more words come in so having to process each word well also figuring out what the thing is as a whole and make up a title on your own

I get to Ohio where it all comes out but for me at least there’s never a plateau never consider flat always a climb up and fall down sometimes it controlled climb like a hike or a staircase taking steps up other times like a rocket ship straight up into the air with a rocket boosters and cheeks flapping barely able to hold on and then a brief period with a booster stop Ingraldi starts to take hold and then come back down can either be a slow decideJust sad sometimes I meant to say dissent dissent with an ED said dissent dissent dissent I can’t get this word but to go down is sometimes like the opposite of the staircase where you’re stepping down slowly or hiking down and other times it is like the fall from having shot straight up into the air and falling without a parachute

i lived on oatmeal and the eggs that baby hard boiled for me that saturday when she was gone and i had to learn to be alone again and realized when i woke up that the bed wasn’t going to make itself

The world are not to see me as I am not at (ought not, having to type this part) As I am I can’t perform for them I can’t do this in front of people I saw Terry practice it is to close my eyes and go into it if I see anyone or know anyone is their messes me up do you ever lose that self-consciousness I can only do alone

Hearing something in the other room and thinking oh that is just baby in the other room but then remembering the baby is gone and wondering what it could be a little scared at first but then remembering what it sounds like to be in the house alone