nothing expected
this means
it is just the first thing
that comes to mind
I expect nothing from
anyone else when
I am here
only that there is
quiet
very little needed
to write
except a hand
to plot the words
it is no longer ink
but digital
got up from a long nap
the kind which has me
feeling hit by a truck
read 11 pages of
Henry Miller at
the dinning room table
the cat crawled into
a bag and was peaking out
trying to attack the
edges of the bag
my hand
my foot
exhausted I try to read
stay away from the television
tonight
there should be purer silence
of drinks hit water
I don’t understand
those violently passionate
lifestyles which obviously
has them lacking
fighting with an ignorance here
don’t see a person but
a force
that comes down
a production line
and is slain in production fashion
please do right, see it in yourself to do it
I miss the hell out of my friends
a few weeks ago I went to see them
in Philly and was a little nervous in
a sense because I knew even though
I had never met them in person
that off the bat I was really going
to like them, being from conversation
I deducted they are some of the kindest
and real people I had the fortune to meet, yet without
any sort of fanaticism or righteousness
or any of it – which naturally in the
presence of that being aware of it
had me trying for the same
for this first visit nothing extravagant
to the naked eye – talking on the bed
watching some TV, playing some
video games, all warm companionship
I thought what could I possibly offer
in return unclear as I am now
uncertain in spirituality
no longer the same, reading the books
or visiting the temple, out of that
loop or mind frame
(not that I condemn it, but that I
feel estranged from it)
I liked how they lived in the Ghetto
seemingly no one else
to turn to but themselves
and God, the truth of the moment
the truth of things
to read, write, to observe
live simple under a low rent roof
with almost humorous surroundings
at times, chickens in the alley
neighbors below banging
on the ceiling.
finally away from work
I fell back on the bed many times
and just slept and successfully
forgot that world
maybe even hoping I
wouldn’t have to go back
being in a new environment,
traveling, made many things
clearer and it felt good
to feel so awake
to have friends
it is my worrying nature and
I knew it but still worried
that I was a burden
that I could be talking too much
or any number of things
that they would be too kind
to mention, that maybe if I weren’t
so dull I could see myself
and correct it
such is a first meeting
you try to return the friendship
and not feel like a corrupt bastard
it was fun watching stupid shows
and playing video games
sitting there eating food
listening to gunshots . . .
only I had neglected to write
or read and my mind
craved it like it craves it now
over these days of revival
special August hours
precious in its own
reminding me two years ago
of Hitchcock’s 100th Anniversary
and how I walked around then
listening to the NPR documentary
of the music from his films
and read Poe developing an
appreciation for horror
not only as a great form of entertainment
but as a philosophical truth reaching me
horror in the form of literature or a movie in
a way that was more tangible more welcome
that would cause bad dreams to which
I had no aversion
while alive
I hope to crush down
the wicked
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