ochroma pyramidale
today was the last day of summer. the east coast will understand that.every ten years or so the city clears the trolley trail.so i took my body for a walk to find it mostly atrophied.awake before noon is a good start. even better now with the toxins gone. except for thought.if i had a balsa wood plane i'd go out back and play. i have to find a way to take december down. without it being the same old way. something else something new.i make the best invalid. the only thing i'm qualified for.make a living chewing gum and fingernails and antacid tablets.all the windows are open. all the leaves are gone. christmas lights this early in the season are giving me an empty kind of feeling.in that dead spot above the stomach - below the lungs. swallowing a cinder block somewhere on the walk back home. not surprised to see that one month ago i felt exactly the same. now it would be the 47th day of uselessness. although i remember that i always fall into something else. wouldn't it be grand to step into it for once. step forward. forget it. today we'll cure the insomnia. no more middle of the nights with programs about wallace stevens and hart crane. the isolation games. counting spiders. unnecessary showers. stalking the mailman. there's nothing ever there. i'm good at this. butcher's block for any rational thought. the neighbor has a dog that sits like a statue and i sit still and watch it all day.thinking about my new hero August Belmont, Jr. i would have made a better run at the turn of the previous century.settling disputes between Graham Bell and Elisha Gray. you realize that this goes on ALL DAY...
what else would we have? eat a fucking cookie and shut the fuck up. my phones out of minutes and it's better that way. there is mold on the windowsill and i should dig the christmas stuff out of that closet. won't afford a tree this year but that's just fine. like that christmas years ago where i put a 2 inch square of paper on the floor that read "x-mas tree". i bought some real cool lights last year that were all blue. tomorrow i'll make sure to decorate. shift of focus is what i deserve.... to be continued, obviously.
1 comment:
killed by death: a creaping inherrent perfection suspicion
i have a bank account because i grew tired of burying my money in the back yard and something else happened. i was burying some money a few years ago when i came across a human skeleton.
the skeleton had the remains of a shovel in one hand and a half-dissolved caffie can in the other hand. the coffie can was filled with a kind of rustdust material that i think was once money, so now i have a bank account.
but most of the time that doesn't work out very well either. when i wait in line there are almost always paople in front of me who have complecated banking problems. i have to stand there and endure the financial cartoon crucifixions of america.
it goes something like this: there are these people in front of me. i have a little check to cash. my banking will only take a minute. the check is already endorsed. i have it in my hand, pointed in the direction of the teller.
the person just being waited on now is a woman fifty years old. she is wearing a long black coat, though it is a hot day. she appears to be very comfortable in the coat and there is a strange smell coming from her. i think about it for a few seconds and realize that this is the first sign of a complecated banking problem.
then she reaches into the folds of her coat and removes the shadow of a refrigerator filled with sour milk and year old carrots. she wants to put the shadow in her savings account. she's already made out the slip.
i look up at the celing of the bank and pretend that it is the sistine chapel.
the old woman puts up quite a struggle before she's taken away. there's lots of blood on the floor. she bit an ear off one of the guards.
i guess you have to admire her spunk.
the check in my hand is for ten dollars.
the next two people in line are actually one person. they are a pair of siamese twins, but they each have their own bank books.
one of them is putting eighty-two dollars in his savings account and the other one is closing his savings account. the teller counts out 3,574 dollars for him and he puts it away in the pocket on the side of his pants.
all of this takes time. i look up at the celing of the bank again but i cannot pretend that it is the sistine chapel anymore. my check is sweaty as if it had been written in 1929.
the last person between me and the teller is totally ananymous looking. he is so anonymous that he's barely there.
he puts 237 checks down on the counter that he wants to deposit in his checking account. they are for a total of 489,000 dollars. he also has 611 checks that he wants to deposit in his savings account. they are for a total of 1,754,961 dollars.
his checks completely cover the counter like a success snow storm. the teller starts on his banking as if she were a long distance runner while i stand there thinking that the skeleton in my back yard had made the right decision after all.
Post a Comment