A new dawn another moment within. Thankful to the degree of ecstasy. Dear friend from NYC made possible. Typewriter, radio, headphones & yes, longjohns. When asked what needed I had not to think. Friend inside inquired why not tv. “well I don’t watch, too much to do”. Yeah, I do wander. Stumble over fresh laid questions. Did my workout this a.m. Always hate. Always happy when done. Feel as if some cancer has been lifted. Cancer of comfort. Locked into some big ass syndrome. I need not just my changes but the world at large. I will do what I can to make this better. I need same in return. If you see me acknowledge. Consider, then we may proceed. The road here is paved and well lit. Plenty of signs. To detour is understandable to a certain extent. Just don’t be stupid. A tree branch breaks, here, believe you me, it affects everyone.
Out walking thoughts remain in the sky. Will I get over this beauty. Perhaps. But I truly doubt it. Gives a great ability to clear. To scrub. To disinfect one’s soul. My thoughts go to friends, family. Evan. Noah. Amanda. Evan Henry. The cold air dusts my boiled blood. I enter that room of remorse. Then a hand upon my shoulder & words whisper forgiveness. That battle. Again. Like clockwork a distraction. Fellow inmate complains everyone here is a baby. Well that turns my head. “How so?” "Always whine about the cold”. “Yeah. Some have a hard time.” It’s not the end of the world”. We talk about his life , his celly, his problems. I ask him without getting personal “Were your indiscretions worth it?” “No” “Then why?” “Don’t know”. That seems to be the common answer here. That is where it ends. A lot of reaction in here. I call you an idiot and we look at each other. Say it to a guy who just got a “Dear John” letter & you’re both going to the hole. Everyone is a potential terrorist. I prefer life in Mexico. Not to say I haven’t thought about crossing that border. I just pave my road a little differently. I hope I pave it alright. & I pray that my compass never fails me.
So I come in from my trek. Dizzy as a mf. I mean I’m going down. “No you’re not” commands my navigator. Make it to a chair. Wait and it gets worse. Medication? Heart? Stress? Cold? What? My head swims. I hate to complain I got up to the front desk and explain the situation. Sgt. calls hsu. I’m on a sick call list. I’m grateful. Still don’t know what it is. The good part is it mellows me out big time. This has been happening for a while. Last night it hit me & I’m listening to some kiss-ass music. “Black snake moan”. Like the dork I am, I pass a joint to my shadow. In “our” little world it was blissful. Never thought at my age – Circumstance – I could conjure a make believer world. It was alright. And yes, no one was watching. Too “Risky Business”.
Holy fuck! “To Sir with Love”. Ever since I can remember I’ve been in love with LuLu. My god she is everything. Her delivery is perfection. She has that magic that transcends. I hear her voice & I’m a kid falling in love for the first time. When she gets up & starts to sing in the movie my heart stopped. I realized at that moment the world was good and something terrific,. My heart still jumps. Is that art or what? Right after LuLu I met Tina Jordan & my first kiss. How could I ever complain? Now they are playing the great Alex Chilton. When I walking early I was “composing a letter to Noah”. Explaining. Apologizing. Just letting him know what he already does. Try as I might I truly believe that there is something beyond all this. Not just the fact that I would be dead now. My path was F’ed up. But I believe the most basic tenet, ‘God is in the details” Usually is referred to in regards to design but I believe in it on the grand scale. The true scale. And yes, if I hadn’t died or gone to prison my life would be different. And yes it would be with my son. Grandson. And yes my heart is broken. My sight clear(er).
Nothing stands between us
except Flying Tigers
The Avenue B Break Boys
Time gets in the way, &
sometimes, lots of sometimes,
We get in its way, so,
Love, love me, do.
God that man is a f’en genius! Just my way of saying, yeah bud, I’m thinking of you & you & you and now to the man who remains another string attached to Stacy’s & my heart:
The Song of the Bells
When evening loses itself in the fountains
my village is a confused color.
I’m far away, I remember its frogs,
the moon, the sad tremolo of the crickets.
Vespers sound and fade into the fields.
I’m dead to the song of the bells.
Stranger, fear not,
in my sweet flight over the plain,
I am a spirit of love
who to his land returns from afar.
- Pier Paolo Pasolini