Thursday, January 8, 2015

January





January, you little fucker. Just when I…

Underwater eye, rolling in the water. Observation without action. Being alive is…


There I was. In a different light cone, there I am. Quarks glued perfectly together. Happy with big shoes on a Chevy in a hat I bet one of my Grandmother's  knitted. They are both dead now. In a different light cone, do you think they are there, knitting for their first grandchild?

I'd like to say Hi Daddy.

I'd like to hug my sister.

They're still alive. In a different light cone, do you think it was all all right, in the end?

In the end, there was a BIIIIG sign that said:

NOW WHAT MOTHERFUCKER

So if you have your eyes squeezed shut, like I do on the very top of the roller coaster, you won't see the sign. 

lala my eyes are open
lalala

I have this book I bought for the kids, when Lola was a toddler, by Maya Angelou, called Life Doesn't Frighten Me. And I've been fascinated by this book, this poem with art, since. It has Basquiat paintings. Of course it's possible for life not to frighten anyone for a period of time, you know- a few days, a month, even a highly lucky streak of a years. But a lifetime? A lifetime of mostly, almost all the time, not being afraid of life? It's been the work of my life to not be afraid of everything, of myself, of other people. The strange, amazing, wonderful thing it that somehow I never learned to be afraid of love. That has been the engine that has powered my life. That, and sex and awesomeness.*



*thank you Jack Donaghy for your mind vise.





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