No longer seeking shade in the furtive summertime of inspiration,
I instead choose to occupy a square of dazzling white,
a brilliant photon-box winking hilariously in between marching rows of
Standing inside the contained space of its eccentric substance,
thin nerves too distracted for properly applied adverbs
and the syntax congealing mercilessly on my cornea,
I forget the first line.
Now blind like those empathetic beggars, I forget the clever line,
the one I wrote in blue-black darkness, letters crooked and
periods rolling this way, that-a way across a frictionless page,
adjusting their smiles,
straightening their ties.
But I think I’m finally starting to realize what it means to live in reality, in truth, in a world dyed in real colors filled with real people and feelings and actions and consequence. Not just exist in some invented tragicomedy with terrible, ear-grating actors that I manipulate offstage using inference and compulsive lying. Not just cleverness, not just words.
What it means to live in a place where mothers die and toddlers gnaw toothbrushes because it’s a steep grade around here, so keep an eye out, the brakes get touchy. And he’s still having that recurring somnambulance of standing in the freeway with eyes awry and legs all weebly-wobbly.
Let’s just say he’s ambivalent about it.
Tourmaline is a piezoelectric material. Piezoelectrics generate a voltage when compressed along a perpendicular direction. Materials optimized for these properties are commonly used in sensors, scales, speakers, motors, and microscopes.
Hot Tuna, live, 1970
de vino tinta de sangre.
mira, mija. abra los ojos y mira. mira a todas las murciégalos que están volando sobre nosotros. vuelan entre los aves, alas en contra de alas, y todos los seres evitan la gravedad, el suelo. la evitan a la vez cuando nos sentimos pesados.
no me tienes que decir: ya sabía que no es justo.
Breathing a sigh of relief, I resolve to get off that reefer knowing that it still is, squarely and warmly, 2013, Year of Our Lord.