Wreck it, Ralph.

click.

fountain pond park.

annoyance.

And the lingering embarrassment of dropping blood pressure..

And the frosted diaphony of a just-thawing, just-frozen pond.

And the mystery of a trail map.

And the dry-soft carpet of brown leaves/

And the white noise quiet of a nearby roadway/

And the whisper cacophony of the wind through leaves.

And the heightened listening for animals/

And the secure visibility of bare limbs.

And the barely-kiss of sunlight breaking thick clouds and evergreen canopy.

And the soft fall of clumped, polymorph ice-snow.

And the green defiance of ferns in pseudo-winter fall.

And the pleasant satisfaction of a short trail.

And the piqued curiosity coming after an open field

And the gratification of finding one's way back.

And the quiet, lively beauty of a marsh.

And the glinting disappointment of wet socks.

And high-humming notes of tall trunks bending in wind.

And the amorphous balance of trunks wind-fallen.

And the wet soft catch of leaves now moist -

and the satisfaction of the trail when done.

dream 11/14/18

last night/morning I dreamt that I decided, for some odd reason, I wanted a beer (which was in a convenience store in a soda-style dispenser) -but I didn't want to get it myself.

so, underaged drinker or drinker that's been cut off-style, I asked somebody else to get it for me.

He did and wanted one for himself, to which he added what looked kombucha.

When he went to pay, I put down the money ($40 for two Big Gulpy fountain beers) and the clerk refused to  sell them. I showed my ID proving I age, and he still didn't accept.

This turned into some kind of ok, "I'll just wait for the police" thing.


I woke up with no beer being had.

cumin

- n.,

the spice created to scare seditty, scared-to-sweat, afraid of a little funk people away from your food.

oculus

And, of course, on a day when I'm fretting over my apparent time-diminished vision,

I see a woman walking with a friend, scanning ahead of herself with a long, thin, white cane, laughing and joculant.

#stupidperspectivesomethingsomething

discomfort

Me: ( moves up to counterperson at local bistro to place order, smiling)

Sweater lady wisks up to counterperson to have hot drinks refilled, seeming no notice of Me

Me noting the sensation of another moment of not being seen

(a moment)

Sweater Lady: (to Me, scanning) I love the way you look.

Me: (un-knowing what to say, sheepish) Thank you.

SL: I love to see people just being themselves.

Me: That's what you should be, right?

SL: Well, that's what I think.

Me: (attempt at not being sheepish) There enough ppl not getting paid to act.

SL: oh, is that what you are?

Me: (unspoken "oh" and moment of fought urge to be expository)..Yeah. (still awkward/sheep smile)

SL, as soon as her drinks arrive, leaves...no greeting or acknowledgement.

END.

You won't likely understand what I'm now going to say. That's fine...my concern is that I, at some point, won't.

Speak will these fingers nonetheless:

I finally figured out, I think, why these people around me now don't "hear" me.

It is because they are Latinate*. They are cerebral. The struggle they have is to reabsorb themselves with the earth.

(the uh, the ah, the low, the base, the mud the dark)

When I intend to speak a truth, from the low place,

[hung low /er than bowels]

they only see the words, the letters.

they don't hear the sounds.

i have marvelled at language that is tonal only 'til now realizing that speaking with tones is something I already do.

perhaps I'll try to preface these flashes of music with a request that they feel me with a bone further down than their heads.

perhaps their Sternum.

#youfeelme?

(*no not "latino/a/x)

For the record:

I am currently sitting in a room with a space heater on wearing full thermal underwear (with an undershirt), socks (I wish they were thermal) Thai-style fishing pants and a large wool-style hooded pull-over...with a 64oz Boathouse Farms juice bottle full of hot water under my top two layers.

The thermometer says 49...and thats up 3 since I first checked this morning.

|:-#

don't look up

Alma del Huila - Bishoune'

click.

Listen to: Right-Wing Hate Groups Are Recruiting Video Gamers

Listen to: Right-Wing Hate Groups Are Recruiting Video Gamers - http://one.npr.org/i/660642531:664492185

Paradise Circus (remix) - Massive Attack