The mason lays his bricks
his hands caked in mortar
the writer scribbles his words
his hand cramped and cold
In unison they create the universe
Forever turning on the lathe
(more) whittling away the atomies
hiding raw perfection
Perfection as an entity benevolently seeking
the revelation, the apocalypse, the opening of eyes
to the truth of all things
It is all in the mind(less)
Use cute turns of phrase
like whiskeyditch kerouacing and house of no walls
and tell edgy jokes (why is 6 scared of 7? 'Cause 7 8 9),
gonna get you happy, get you laid.
Send for a diploma from a closed school,
(more) gonna get you flush, get you paid.
Nobody will know you're a scared child
lost in the supermarket.(less)
A short hike to alpine heaven and we're at the Evegreen Mountain Fire Lookout. The views are amazing, the wildflowers more colorful than you can imagine, and the bugs are biting furiously.
OK, so maybe "heaven" was a little hyperbolic. But it's difficult not to go overboard on(more) Evergreen Mountain.
I worked here one summer many years ago, as a volunteer fire lookout. A great place to decompress from the drama of everyday life, with no company except for the curious stare of a mountain goat and the occasional mouse. And the crackle of the Forest Service radio, reminding me to relay messages from some remote, backcountry outpost to the ranger station.
One day a man hiked up the trail and stopped by the lookout. He asked me what I was writing and I said "Nothing" because the most I ever wrote were letters to my friends and family back east. "You should write something," he said, "Jack Kerouac worked as a fire lookout here in the Cascades."
I didn't bother to tell him I was not in the same league as Jack Kerouac.
One of the friends that I wrote to was a graduate of NOLS,
which was a school for people learning to be leaders in the wilderness. I thought John would be interested in my experiences, the sights and sounds of the central Cascades. But John never got my letter. He had committed suicide at the time I was starting my adventure and I was never able to tell him about the mountain goat or the bees swarming down the fire lookout chimney, or the view of Eagle Rock at sunset.
Its been 26 years. Evergreen Mountain is still there, memories and all, and it will be there long after I am gone.
"This world is just a turn of phrase penned by a fool," Sara said.
"Well, good to know you haven't given up," he remarked.
(more) "Oh David, there was never anything to give up on."
"We're not talking about the origins of the universe anymore, are we?"
"We never were."
They drove in silence for a while, until he started whistling, "Do you see what I see." She glanced sideways at him for a moment, and then, after a fleeting smile, she joined in. It was in that way, on a freezing night, near the end of the world, that they celebrated Christmas. Every church that they passed was overflowing, and had its doors wide open, never mind the snow. They watched as neighbors and strangers, and all sorts of folks that would never have brushed up against each other, held each other tight, as if each body was a life raft that would not break.
By the time they had finally whistled their way through all the Christmas hymns, they were holding hands. He was silent now, and she knew he was crying.
Finally she said, "You know, even a fool can write a masterpiece, now and then." (less)
“You thought I was in love with you? You actually thought I was in love with you!” I burst out laughing and he looked like a complete idiot. “Donovan, sweetheart, I know we dated for close to six months but I was not anywhere in the vicinity of in love with(more) you. You’re cute and I did like you a lot and we had fun together but that was it. And if you could get your head out of your own ass for a second, you would see that it this is not about my feelings for you. This is about common decency. This is about you being an adult and dealing with your shit like real man...which clearly you are not! You were nothing to me but a human dildo which aptly describes what you really are.”
“And what’s that?” he smirked.
“You’re a dick!” I said with a smile and walked away.
i was in a part of town that i wasn't especially familiar with but i knew i had a pretty extreme craving for a pulled pork sandwich, and even though it would appear most everything on the block was a gay bar or a gay sex shop i'm very(more) secure in my cis (a term my ex-girlfriend, who bought me a reusable tote bag, always asked me to use) masculinity, and that means i'm definitely not a homophobe except in the case of a penis actually touching my face or its vicinity, which i'd rather not happen, but i've been to a few gay bars with my ex-girlfrynd (i hope i'm using the "y" gender neutral pronoun right she always said i did it wrong), and i'm pretty sure that most gay guys at a gay bar don't just jump on the bar and try to put their penises on anyone's faces unless it's obviously welcomed (sometimes i worry a little bit that i have an inherently welcoming face).
i ended up at a place called university bbq, and i figured, hey, if anything the sausage will be good, and that'll do in a pinch, and was surprised to find no booths or tables, but instead a whole group of fat glittery transvestites lip syncing "my sharona" and practicing a choreographed dance, costume jewelry a-jingling. apparently i had accidentally walked into a college for big beautiful queens.