“Up home we wear a hat like that to shoot deer in, for Chrissake,” he said. “That’s a deer shooting hat.”
“Like hell it is.” I took it off and looked at it. I sort of closed one eye, like I was taking aim at it. “This is a people shooting hat,” I said. “I shoot people in this hat.”
yes, I’ve been reading Catcher in the Rye. it’s a sick day. well now it’s evening and I’m wondering what I’m going to write for myself, for God, for my friends out in the world – who all possibly want to hear something new. I want to be like other people who I admire, to be honest, frank, sincere, and strong, faithful, always putting someone else first, myself last. these are the qualities I seek. I think how lonely it is, though, boxed up in winter like this, barely in contact with anyone, just to work back and forth exhausted all the time, very little exercise, very little quality of anything like meditation, reading, writing, anything creative. just an awareness of the lack, however, could be the first step in reviving it.
all I know right now this very second
all I know to do
is carve out a tiny sentence
that can be seen
from space with our technology
dumb adults, these salespeople, they’re impressed if they just see a bunch of computer monitors. they know very little. it baffels the hell out of me. those that know very little sure know how to talk miles right out of your blood stream. you see ’em out on the wide sidewalks with their coffee, maybe smoking too, trying to talk to someone. it’s always so important. like they should have their own news channels. I’m so sick of it.
I can just be silent. they’re the joke of themselves. like if you check out sci-fi’s stuff. all that junk is staged in pristine quality; the kid electrocuted on the fence; the ladybugs swarm the family picnic, the UFO over New York. they haven’t literally built an organic magnet for the human body. rather, the mind has to be persuaded, convinced. and once the desire is developed, God help them if anything gets in our way.
what am I talking about?
God help us.
various stuff
pet shops, stuff like that.
what, you don’t think it’d
help you to read J.D. Salinger?
life is too fast, to world wide webbed
from one site to the next
your head is all channel surfed
you can’t concentrate on the classic
grain of the pages anymore
Holden is checking into his hotel
in New York, lonely like a madman
lip busted up from a fight
back at the school he left
he needs a sabatical
some good company
maybe some direction. sometimes we want good direction, other times we want to relax, or be spontaneous, enjoy life as creative people without labels, not as writers, painters, photographers. breathe the mountain air.
Thom Yorke: “if you look at the artwork for ‘Kid A’, well that’s the fire from afar. ‘Amnesiac’ is the sound of what it feels like to be standing in the fire.”
BGKPOETRY.COM 