her lips were almost




and never again

these days

with a pure heart

i tell you that

the lyrics of pm dawn are the most true of anything ever ever

ever






(boner city)

Males of Ordinary Sadness

nbsp;        So this is how it ends, you weeping on your way to work and me, 6:15 a.m. at Tony's place, two Budweisers and a double Kessler's. It was 7:12 a.m. in a dive bar on Geary street when I knew my life needed to change or it would end poorly, and soon. And then next it was 7:23 and i had forgotten about all of that and had another Michelob, another old granddad. Roy Orbison on the goddamned juke box.

nbsp;        You dumped me in a bowling alley parking lot just after league play. That night I cried and drank, drank and cried. I managed to wake up early the next morning and here I am. I am trying to stuff these new red hot blues down as far as they will go as soon as possible, for a good enough spell. Eventually I will either stop this, not stop this or start all over again. This is my pyrrhic medicine. When life ends me I will either have choked on this or on a woman.

nbsp;        I thought about not doing any thinking. I did pretty well with that until some chickie walked in. I could no longer not think. She had two tits and some random chromosomes. It's always something.

nbsp;        Like a genuine prick I was on stage. I downed what I had then ordered a double with a deep voice and some swagger. I said "Phil, hit me twice" he looked up from his racing form with a "what the fuck?" look then saw me looking at the skirt, shook his head and said, equally as loud "the usual, Mr. thick". I saw her look up with interest. I nodded, she....well...she wouldn't have smiled if I dropped my trousers and a chariot flew out. I saw Phil chuckle then unfold and refold the papers and set them down on the bar. He came up and sat down the two glasses with a good solid thump. He and I had agreed about 12 years earlier that when ordering a double to impress the ladies it is always more dramatic to have two single shots instead of one big shot. He said, loud enough "this one is on the arm, boss" winking. I knew damn well it wasn't going to be free. She looked up again and I curled a long strand of hair behind her ear. She look at me as though I were paint drying.  I gave Phil the thank you nod, subtle, like I was the godfather. I cleared my throat so she would look and picked up one of the shots, nodded to it, raised it to an absent lover then downed it. The next one followed post haste. I looked down and to the right and nodded in melancholy. I stared into blank space, like I was Bogart or Mitchum or Bronson.or...Woody Allen...

nbsp;        Peripherally I saw her put down her book, look towards me with some sort of tangible longing. I just knew her loins were ablaze or at least slightly above room temperature. I went back to my beer, she went back to her book.....it was Raymond Carver! I was in like goddamned Flynn. Wally Flynn, Errol's retarded half brother...but still.

nbsp;        Old good Johnny cash came on the box and I nodded to nothing in particular and said loud enough...."get rhythm?...hell..when I get the blues I get drunk and i get onion rings and ranch dressing and..and..hot sauce!".

nbsp;        She smiled at me with a star in her eye..or was it pity..a pity star?....anyways….I asked her how she was…..the word she used was "restless"..or maybe it was "busy" not sure. She didn't move down three barstools though. She probably was a lonely school teacher, third grade maybe…desirous of some strange. And god knows I am as strange as fuck. I squinted at her. She smiled and asked "you read much?" and I said for some reason "oh boy do I?"…..and then I knew our future was sealed….kids…house….trash compactor…cable channels. I told her Carver was an influence..she said on who..and from there it went swimmingly. If it were an epileptic trying to swim in a vat of frozen horseshit.

nbsp;        Joni Mitchell came on...it was "River"...I will be properly sad for the next few drinking hours because this jukebox is in the hands of a master.

how to love your depressed lover.

Last night I thought I kissed
the loneliness from out your belly button.
I thought I did, but later you sat up,
all bones and restless hands, and told me 
there is a knot in your body that I cannot undo.

I never know what to say to these things.
“It’s okay.” “Come back to bed.”
“Please don’t go away again.”

Sometimes you are gone for days at a time
and it is all I can do not to call the police,
file a missing person’s report, even though
you are right there, still sleeping next to me
in bed. But your eyes are like an empty house
in winter: lights left on to scare away intruders.

Except in this case I am the intruder and you
are already locked up so tight that no one
could possibly jimmy their way in.

Last night I thought I gave you a reason
not to be so sad when I held your body like
a high note and we both trembled from the effort.

Some people, though, are sad against all reason,
all sensibility, all love. I know better now.
I know what to say to the things you admit to me
in the dark, all bones and restless hands

“It’s okay.” “You can stay in bed.”
“Please come back to me again.”

if i had a river...

In order of preference

1. manhattan

2. stardust memories

3. play it again, sam

4. annie hall

5. radio days

6. sweet and lowdown

7. interiors

8. september

9. bullets over broadway

10. broadway danny rose

11. zelig

12. take the money and run

13. husbands and wives

14. love and death

15. crimes and misdemeanors

16. another woman

17. bananas

18. anything else

19. deconstructing harry

20. mighty aphrodite

21. match point

22. a midsummer night's sex comedy

23. vicky cristina barcelona

24. manhattan murder mystery

25. alice

26. everyone says i love you

27. the purple rose of cairo

28. everything you've always wanted to know  about sex*

29. sleeper

30. what's up, pussycat?

31. midnight in paris

32. you will meet a tall dark stranger

33. melinda and melinda

34. celebrity

35. shadows and fog

36. hollywood ending

37. curse of the jade scorpion

Not seen: whatever works, scoop, cassandra's dream

i am single,


she's a jar with a heavy lid


and i am no longer a match

for her
quiet.

they say every man goes blind in his heart





and they say everybody steals somebody's heart away.....

what she wants: me to not be messy and to ask her to marry her

what i want: her, for once in our goddamned relationship, to initiate sex










the gulf between is an ancient ocean's wide....

at a starbucks on harbor street in costa mesa near newport...and i have piss and vinegar on the brain.....i am sour....tense.....kinda hung over.....and some goddamned jamaican fellow is telling me through the speakers above that i got to lively up myself.......


i am upset over the fucking girlfriend.....which seems to be a theme recurring...we had not seen one another for more than a week and i dropped by her new place yesterday to surprise her.....i stood outside and called her on the phone...she answered lazily....told me that she was gonna make today a lazy day..then i knocked on her door...she seemed surprised that that someone was there but not happy at all or at least pleased to see me...

i stepped through the doorway and she gave me a swift hug, i told her i needed the parking pass to put in my car..that i would only be there for a bit.....and she gave me her keys to get it.......when i came back in she was in the kitchen cleaning, putterin...i went into the kitchen and put my arms out...she looked at me then came into me, i rubbed her back and gave her a big hug....and she patted my back a few times...i felt like i was a puppy or a four year old.... then she went back to puttering...i took a rag out of her hand and said "sweetheart..i am here to see you..." she grabbed it back and said i just need to clean up a bit.....i went into the dining room and she came too..i pointed towards the couch and said, let's relax....she sighed and pulled out a dining room chair and said, sit here....and she pulled up a chair...i moved my chair real close to her and started rubbing her legs....her arms...i was thrilled to see her, i wanted closeness....after a while she was not reciprocating so i moved my chair back....

i said "do you want to cuddle and she she breathed deeply then sighed then looked at me, with nothing in her eyes really...and said..i do and i don't........she said "i need to go get some groceries and stuff"...i looked at her.......and said.."you told me earlier you just wanted to make today a lazy day...here i am and i want to spend some time with you...."...she sighed and reiterated that she needed to go get groceries....she asked if i wanted to go with her and the kids to get groceries and i said no...i wanted time with just her, relaxing....

she looked at me, then started fidgeting with something....i took it out of her hands....she looked at me...i said.."alright...i'm gonna go"...she said "come on david don't start this again"......and i said "no...i wanted some david and diana time and you keep bringing up things you have to do which you know you could do a little later....and you are just choosing not to spend your time with me, now i am going to get your car pass.....let me know when you have time for me.."...i got the pass, brought it back in, put it on the table in front of her..her head was in her hands.....and i left....."..oh i was in a sour sour mood..

the first thing i wanted to do was go home and drink some beer and whiskey,,and i did..a little too much...later on ...maybe an hour after i left her i noticed she posted some random question on a picture i had posted the previous day....and that made me angrier.....that she could not hang out with me because she had things to do, and yet here she was on facebook.......it just does not add up... not that i am a mathematician but..i like things in matters of the heart to add up....

i wanted tonight to be good, but sometimes life gets in the way, i on purpose purposefully only drank a beer today because the woman was coming over tonight. i went at 6pm to go see the guy i take care of graduate from the school i used to work at.....i did not know that 4 other of my old kids were graduating too, ones that i had written about here....many years ago....i saw people i used to work with..i had left that place on bad terms and the bosses i told off were there, smiling, nodding....and an old girlfriend was there too, a mormon gal..she gave me one of those side hugs that made me feel like i had raped her or put something foreign into her asshole...it was a good ceremony nonetheless.

afterwards i came home and made myself hangsome....washed my asshole and had the one beer, used soap and conditioner....the woman came over and we listened to records..i had written the lyrics to the cure's a few hours after this.....because she told me she had just loved the music but never paid any attention to the words....so we listened and discussed....then i put on black celebration and then a portishead album....and finally a pj harvey playlist on the computer..and we commenced to making out.....

it had been a while since we had....she bought her own condo and has been moving in and all that entails...so tonight i think she was a bit horny...we were into it for a while and then i had some of my fingers inside of her and then i noticed a good deal of blood on my hands and her legs.....and i told her.....and we went to clean it off...and she kept bleeding....so she decided to go home.....called me from home after a bath and said it slowed down and she was gonna go to bed.....we decided that it had to do with the prince albert and rough humping...

so i brought out a large bottle of the bruery's old richland barleywine and a bottle of longrow cv campbeltown single malt scotch and am working on that....it is 2:45 am...and i work tomorrow at one....

i am listening to miles davis and sonny stitt in stockholm doing autumn leaves....i hope diana is ok, she is otherwise she would not have just gone to sleep....i am to get a small bit drunk tonight...i have been off work since wednesday morning....and i stayed away from too much booze yesterday bc d may have come over but she didn't...our times spent together seems so tentative..she is a busy ass woman..and i am a man with sooooooooooo much time on his hands which i thinks is a poor combination bc i get upset over not having enough us time......but such is life...

i met andrew jacobs on a website of all places called scenepoints..it was sort of the orange county / los angeles music scene and i am not sure at all how i stumbled upon it...but we made friends and went to shows together..hung out some...then many moons ago he got married and i had not heard from him for several years until recently.....

i think of morton feldman's the viola in my life....all parts....and how close listening may lead me somewhere emotionally prosperous.....of course i could say the same about subotnick's silver apples of the moon or further....solo for wounded cd by yasunao tone....but let us not get ridonkulous....

i feel as though i need something in my life to push me forwards towards something else and i got no idea what.....ahhhhhh...my random itunes shuffle just put on chubby wolf..and i wonder how will is doing in japan with his new gal..and i miss dani and her.....well....her odd energy and emotional range....her kindness...i think she may be wavering between planes, causing all sorts of dissonance and assonance...

i am poor until the 21st when i get paid next so i have been raiding my cellared beers that i had been saving for trading, drinking with friends and selling...also...my scotch supply has dwindled (WHAT THE FUCK!!!! ITUNES FOLLOWED UP CHUBBY WOLf WITH STING OF ALL PEOPLE!!!!! dani would laugh...)....from about 65 bottles to now around 15.....

WWTNBIGD? what would the notorious b i g do?....he would smoke a blunt and umm..drink some hennesey and then fuck a bitch...i do not smoke....have no hennesey and my bitch is currently at home sleeping and bleeding....

WORD TO MUTHA..I'M DANGEROUS...CRAZIER THAN A BAG OF FUCKING ANGEL DUST...WHEN I BUST MY RAP MOTHAFUCKAS TAKE DIRT NAPS....I'M ALL THAT AND A DIME SACK..WHERE THE PAPERS AT?

so yeah....these are thursdays and these are fridays and they blend together all the time and similar becomes same and i really feel like i am wasting my time....i am not sure what grand thing i think i should be doing to make it all ok....i am not sure of the formula to make it good....my arithmetic no longer serves me....i used to think 2 plus 3 equals 5 and that is fine..just fine....but it may still equal that but i no longer care....it never adds up any more...and so i just take it as damaged, unreliable..and i make it a point not to focus on anything for fear it may not add up...

just turned 40 last month, went to portland for a week, it was nice for the most part...met an old friend there and goddamit if he wasn't very disappointing....but another friend came and saved the trip for me...stayed the rest of the time there downtown, doing what i wanted.....

anyways.....ahhhh.....joanna newsom...and her fingers.....

i need to feel as though i matter to myself again and i do not...then i need to work on mattering to someone else.....

anti-depressants and life make me numb, this is part of why i have not been writing for a long time.

does anyone have an opinion on how to go about rereading all of an author's available works...?

should i read them strictly in chrono order...or..in the case of hamsun....with reoccurring characters and several trilogies...do i read them differently?

this is what i have of his thus far: novels, bio's, travel, his wife's books on farm life, short stories.....



tales of love and loss - short stories by knut hamsun

The Wanderer: Under the Autumn Star & On Muted Strings - hamsun

benoni - hamsun

chapter the last - hamsun

growth of the soil - hamsun

shallow soil - hamsun

a norwegian farm - marie hamsun

Knut Hamsun: Selected Letters 1879-1898: Vol 001

Selected Letters: 1898-1952: Vol 002

KNUT HAMSUN Norwegian Norway 1922 biography Larsen

Wanderer Plays on Muted Strings (Green Integer: 83)

Victoria

Look Back on Happiness

Night Roamers and Other Stories

Victoria: Translated from the Norwegian by Oliver Stallybrass

The Last Joy (Green Integer)

Wayfarers

Knut Hamsun: Dreamer & Dissenter, Ingar Sletten Kolloen

Rosa -

August –

hunger

mysteries

pan

in wonderland

segelfoss town 1 and 2

women at the pump

dreamers

enigma - bio robert ferguson

knut hamsun - dreamer and dissenter - bio by ingar sletten kolloen

on overgrown paths

wanderers

tales of love and loss

Night Roamers and Other Stories

further into the fog i fall, well i was just following you
when you said do as i do and scrap your fey ways
dial a cliche

grow up be a man and close your mealy mouth
dial a cliche

dial a cliche
dial a cliche

but the person underneath where does he go?
does he slide by the wayside
or does he just die?

and you find that you've organized your feelings for people who didn't like you then and do not like you now.....

hello world land

i am mixed, i am not paying attention, my head is awkward.....

i don't even feel like finishing this post

i am getting bored with myself

i am in a shitty shitty mood, have been for a few days...

distant, neglected, sad, immobile, confused, stationary, in the dark

am i me anymore or am i a melange of reactions to someone else?

i feel so dependent upon the moods and desires of my sweetheart and i seem to be becoming overly sensitive to things she does or doesn't do.

i do not know the rules of life or the rules of relationships and i feel like a failure.

piss piss piss

vinegar vinegar vinegar

ok hi ...it has been a while

i have been drinking

the girlfriend came over tonight and she plopped down in my bed and would have been just fine laying there quiet....

but things have been happening or not happening as it were in our relationship that i wanted to bring up.....i let the words out slow and measured..she tried to shush me several times and was goddamned awfully quiet herself...i told her i was not content with the way things were going....and she was silent..i told her i had been keeping it all in for a long time and she was silent quiet silent......and then she stood up and then she became retarded (i will not go into details  just yet) and then silent again......

fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck ...............i am sad drunk sad sad sad and she is silent so goddamned silent.......



do i have to create a conflagration in otder to make things right?

wendy?


yes lisa?


is the water warm enough?


yes lisa


shall we begin?




yes lisa

i met a christian in christiansands, 
and a devil in helsinki

my defences
             become fences

you and me, what does that mean?
always, what does that mean?

it means we'll manage, i'll master your language

and in the meantime i'll create my own

by my own
it means we'll manage

i'll master your language





what a motherfucking great concert tricky - los angeles - wed march 25 - 2009

Will post pics of blue later. I am at the deli now. Two days off. Gonna go see tricky tonight.

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