Chopin dishes in the sink / Nocturnes unmade bed / Alive a sonata for piano / Eggs sunny side & Opus 9
It’s not merry Christmas or happy holidays or have a nice Kwanzaa or Hanukkah. It’s:
Unidentified driving object.
Because I see more than my fair share of dicey, ambiguous-looking vehicles on the road here in Las Vegas. Trucks held together with twine & such. Rickety automobiles in danger of collapsing in a cloud of dust & smoke like the occasional hotel-casino implosions here in town.
I noticed a model in a mag who wore a ring, its width spanning to the bend of her forefinger. Not a wedding band, of course, ‘cause the world of fashion modeling is one of availability — of disengagement, full of time to amble, with the occasional need to stare down voyeurs.
She tried to be proper with her salad but she was hungry. She could not interject as her guest spoke for fear her food bits would take flight. She asked open-ended questions here and there and then chomped during the replies.
Women are sexy when they paint. I’ve seen women paint where they get dirty, barefoot on the studio floor (a granola blonde.) I insist that it is break time.
Just because you used the word “pairings” does not make you sophisticated.
Please do not offer to put me in contact with your mentor.
David Bowie’s Space Oddity video subversive in how he sits on a stool strumming acoustic, eyes locked on camera, evoking classic stalwart crooners, eg. Bing Crosby & Dean Martin. But Bowie has shaven eyebrows, carrot-top hair standing on end, dilated pupils, pasty skin and lyrics about his hallucinogen-induced celestial orbit.
i feel that the sky is blue
i feel that my cat is warm
i feel that i am lazy
i feel that my cat sees a bird
i feel i have a better view than my downstairs neighbors do concerning the patio
i feel i can be only literal this morning — that metaphors are still another cup away
i feel the birdsongs
i feel the pre-winter migration
i feel the fall
morning food urges:
cinnamon cruller or pfeffernusse
the beauty of blank, as in page
filled with the thought of this
the tiny consciousness of ants
and the way that they coordinate
along their multi-lane freeway
all male alphabet letters are uppercase during mating season
women w/ faces barely able to contain their beauty
enormous enuf to burst thru the frame of a camera
Sometimes i sit on my couch and just stare out my patio door. This is quite blissful most of the time, with my mind shifting into neutral — like that feeling you get when you’re driving. My cat also is prone to staring through the door for guiltless stretches of time. It’s apparent she finds it gratifying. We’re not really expecting to see anything in particular (I feel I also can say that on behalf of my cat), it’s just that we know that’s where life is — just like when trees shift toward sunlight.