tent-tative

i'm sad i missed evolve this weekend, any opportunity to bathe in a waterfall and camp with the gang is a grand chance missed.

here is a little poem that i've been tinkering with on my typewriter. once i get a scanner i hope to upload it because it is much nicer in ink the whole format falls apart on here for some reason. oh wellz.

I

an infant cries, the yard below

spinning

shamanic reveries

held up between a moment and

a distant port.

idly i wait

cooly considering

the wind of happenstance

for i am fickle as fate

and no less blind

wine spills as easily as time

and who am i to

for that is that

it rained today.

ca va ca va ca va ca va they say

-i was not invited

to the barbecue

below.

it's a shame

for we could have chatted about the weather

or caudillos

or soup.

i smoke upstairs instead.

II

solitude and summer rain

tidal thunder has a hold of the night

i walked down empty streets as the sky crumbled

carried softly in doughy reverie

stoned, lucid

lovely solitude

found in empty alleys and flooded nights

i do not feel woe or want

perhaps un chat at the

base of my bed

count thy blessings sip thy tea

i feel something in this brew

the devil says he

feels

it,

too.

walk do not rest watch do not listen there is no time for punctuation

the apocalypse is here so grab the cat i'm ready for my just reward

the pleasures of the flesh were too great i saw i wept i reaped sweet

fate but still the devil is behind his schedule

the pot has gone cold, flip the switch, another brew

oh never mind, i've had

it

we're through

twiddle these thumbs until doomsday comes

they say i have a

morbid

streak

hah.

III

on return from camping in mile end

moon imitates the street lights

cafe olimpico waverly and st. viateur

streetlights

mock the moon

their iced coffees are perfection, ya know?

i've been off the radar

couch camping

crouching kodak hidden gardens

running away from

home is

just as

novel at the

ripened age of twenty

seasonal imperfections and the sensation of

eternal childhood

summer

walking smoking talking bliss

as the humid air

keeps close by, the

whole

lonesome

way.