i walk down klovenierburgwal

early evening life beginning energy building brick sidewalks offering a path to somewhere to just about anywhere i spit into my hand slap it follow the trail wind around the canal toward neumarket
 
glance into a window drapes only slightly drawn downstairs flat below the water line of the canal elegantly furnished euro modern clean lines feng shui’d accordingly beneath the ancient crown molding skillfully applied by craftsmen paid pennies by the burghers of old drapes only slightly drawn the amber glow of two sconces drifting down on two lovers on a divan he facing her she facing him leaning over toward him a hand on his thigh they’re both blond his slightly darker could have been the light

could have been my desire

girlfriend she says she wants a gay boyfriend that craves only her she’s greedy that way she thinks a faggot fucker will fuck her harder and more righteous just like she needs just like she craves she just don’t know she just don’t realize ain’t nobody no faggot no studly porn star no manly mandingo ain’t nobody gonna fuck her like i do gonna fuck her hard and righteous like i do

nobody

then it’s gone the window the sconces the lovers on the divan it’s gone a brief glance a moment on my walk one of a thousand images i’m processing walking along the canal it’s dark it’s chilly

the amber image warms

could have been an ad in elle or cosmo high gloss photo the copy reads the perfect friday night and the logo for chanel new york london paris

it’s so sexy

i might let her take advantage of my mind while i take advantage of myself later tonight

seven days

on the road seven more to go

start in san francisco it’s a beautiful morning it’s a clear day blue skies occasional fluffy white hanging around loving its temporal heavenly existence fly over snowy fields criss crossed by dark strips of crisp bacon burnt sienna veins spotted by splotches of leafless gray trees and scrubs

sunday it’s paris monday it’s the train to rennes meetings with french technocrats stacked high in hierarchical ooze decisions frustratingly crawling between levels a job is a job back on the train to london through the chunnel at fourteen thousand miles per hour we sit across from a rather large english woman and her three kids a bored young teen and two siblings under the age of seven the mum with nervous eyes brought on by exhaustion we hear their tale of woe they drove to disneyland on holiday their car broke down her husband remained behind to get it repaired her kids run wild up and down the train the teen sits up against the window ear buds separating her from the rest of us swine she stares out into the darkness the mirrored images of those whom she tries to escape from whom we’re all trying to escape

now i sit in the jolly joker in neumarket i’m waiting for a friend i sip coffee i smoke spliff puffs of rah love jah love hover float dissipate out the window on the other side two women wave large orange flags some sort of religious thing they white dutch a black man is talking to her rather animated maybe passionate one finger one hand pointed to the heavens the other holding a cross between thumb and forefinger a cross attached to a chain fastened around the neck she shakes her head he talks she shakes her head he touches her she backs away waving the big orange flag he walks away disappears from the window

american woman

sung reggae plays three kids sit at a table stoned and talking teenage boy stoner talk they’re english newly turned eighteen so they claim they don’t stay long the proprietor cards them shakes his head i guess they’re not eighteen an american sits at the old maple wood bar polished brass flashing in the light

in london we keep busy tee vee is serious business in this capital of the world beautiful long legged scandinavian women in short short skirts and cleavage begging for exploration walking among creatures assumedly women covered in black body bags yes that’s crude yes that’s a little culturally insensitive yes that’s a little redneck i call ‘em as i see ‘em what the fuck

i’d still slide my hand up that burqa kind of like trying to find the prize in the box of cracker jacks never know what you’re gonna find

i run through kensington gardens by prince albert sitting aloft his brass and marble realm his approving smile beaming down on us a child of ten his friends crowding around he dials the phone the store keeper answers the ten year old muffles a laugh he says he spits into the phone do you have prince albert in the can the shop keep gruffly says yes the child his friends laugh shout out loud well you better let him out i cross the street move through hyde park along the serpentine its waters stained green by generations of goose shit by the memorial to diana it pays to marry well the door out is a bitch around to speaker’s corner i fight the urge to replay my fifth grade recitation of the preamble to the constitution we the people do ordain and establish who da people we da people who da people we da people i would but i left my peach crate back stateside and on around down the carriage path back into the gardens where i ease up finish with a slow walk back to gloucester road joint lit lungs full

i have to lay off an employee

and english rules apply there is a checklist of what i’m supposed to say no more no less it’s scripted it’s impersonal technically she is redundant it’s cleaner that way no room for discussion no room for emotion at least on my side she is upset she sheds a tear she has words she wants me to hear sticks and stones ain’t shit words hurt it’s only words and words are all i have to take your heart away

seven days

in the jolly joker the american at the bar is loud yet jovial new yorkish but more upstate than city he’s smoking bud in a glass pipe blown long and dickish he explains the california marijuana business it’s an industry it’s a cash economy larger than most third world nations he explains this to an elderly dutch stoner he himself from the countryside he himself speaks disparagingly of the locals he left behind the farmers the religious the new yorker speaks of his own escape from blue collar mentality he is an old hippie gone business legit he lives with the pain i guess we all do i guess we’re all escaping from something grass is greener syndrome

love and rockets

my friend walks through the door we hug i haven’ seen him in nearly a year we talk and laugh and cry late into the night we hang in the joker and smoke joints we go next door to the pub and sip beers we rotate twice back and forth we talk of days behind us we talk of days before us we talk of love and women we talk of deeds done some remembered well some not so well some best forgotten before stumbling back to the leidensplein find frittes with mayo at two in the morning

i add a dollop of mustard

girlfriend tells me how much she misses me and i sleep until noon wake up to wind howling sunlight bright morning wood hard and stiff

a coffee a joint some dutch masters at the rijksmuseum the history through the eyes of artists the sixteenth century dutch ruled the business world they ran the slave trade they were cruel cut throat businessmen of yonder barbarians at the gate peter stuyvesant haggles with the manhattan injuns a little this a little that next thing you know there’s a starbucks on every corner i find the exit

art needs to come in small doses

i find my friend i hang with my friend and his kids in the park behind the van gogh they run and climb on the  iamsterdam sign my friend rides off on his bike two kids in the basket up front his oldest standing on the rear axle holding onto her dad they ride off into the gray horizon

me well another joint a coffee some food

two arab guys sitting at the table outdoors at the cafe sipping espresso one turns to the other says taking hand from pocket it is chilly making a gesture of curiosity he says in not broken yet modified english he says where is your brother the other tucked into his chair jacket zipped up to the chin hands dug deep into his pockets he says from behind black rimmed armani glasses and the shadow of the day’s beard he says

he is searching for a wife

the first nods the other nods they place a few coins in the basket with the check they leave a couple speaking italian take their place their lilting conversation melding with dutch german french all around smatterings of english everyone speaks english we are the adaptive chameleon bastards of the world

and the whole earth was of one language and of one speech and they came and they said go let us build us a city and they did and its name is called babel because the lord did there confound the language of all the earth and from thence did the lord scatter them abroad the face of all the earth

and i pay my check and i scatter among them glancing in windows

i glance i wonder out loud speaking in tongue one foot in front of the other

another day in amsterdam and all that

  

bert sits on the rock

he sits on a big rock set placed thrust within the depression slashed across the very bottom of the gorge nestled within the folds of the lower appalachia undulating cunts cut along among the earth’s crust marbelous dire outcroppings mud slide slim carved worn defined sliced diced by condescending yet sparkling veins of rivers ancient and sacred a crone well into her wisdom water of life aub zam zam the sweet tallulah bottled and tapped way up in north georgia

bert sits on the rock like fucken rodin

he we all of us way back in time nineteen seventy eight seventy nine way back in time it is afternoon it is end of day he sits on his ass the granite melding fusing fear becomes zen batteries drain trickle scoot back now shuffle back just a little ways shuffle back in time back in awe a little shock a little awe maybe five maybe six hours earlier

he we all of us we wake we bake we fall down frightened we tumble down somersaults of sin loop de loops of love we’re just trying to get right we’re just trying to make it right make it righteous lo we fall i fall girl i do fall i trip and fall i slip and trip with every passing day every passing hour with every passing breath
hard and steady

for god so loved the world he gave his only begotten son 

for i so loved the girl i waved my only forgotten gun

every passing breath hard and steady

ever lasting death for veronica and betty

goddamn gizzards with gravy great googly mooglies pogo pissed on all of us from the cross forgive them father they know not what they do they do not what they know

lo we have met the enemy and they is us

he we all of us we wake we bake we fall down frightened somersaults of sin loop de loops of love all along a mysterious mushroom trail boil bubble toil trouble spike with grape kool aid hold the nose through the lips and over the gums look out jesus here i cum we drink the horrid solution

swallow stomach surrender slip

down down down into the gorge follow the gurgling giggle the giggling gurgle of water laughing tripping singing over the rocks stumbling down deep as the sun also rises apollo lashing our backs with his capricious cat o’ nine tails multi colored perspiration floats off our tee shirts flies from our scraggly hair and beards evaporates into the morning air with polite bursts of peter max reality bites petite nova mortar rounds rocking our worlds spanking our monkeys tinkerbelling us ever deeper into our mother's cunt such sweet smells sending me sliding sideways her dewy desire darting dabbing at our hard breathing nostrils like tongue on clit

tiptoeing into the hidden abyss doing the uncertain questioning fred and ginger happy feet twinkling toes along the precipice of her lust we feel her shiver and shake tremble and quake knees shaky breasts naked grateful and grand she is a loving god she is a vicious lover with vicious flying crabs nipping at our exposed parts leaving marks for future lovers to see forewarnings fences declarations of territory we hop and slap from rock to rock no love is ever free no love is ever simply given away she makes us work

she says smiling she says well darlin’ just don't think about it that way why not go a day just don’t think about it grim grinchy grins and groans baby baby it weighs on my every breath

love it just fucks me up

i’m a pig on a spit slung over a low flame slowly turning slowly burning goddamn i burn for you

puff la

clouds clutter the sky

while a big rock sits in the middle of the river at the bottom of the gorge amidst the icy ooze sits tall a stubby granite obelisk a stony clit in the fold of the earth waters rushing around it rounded silver corvettes cutting contemptuously through the mist a stepping stone sidewalk leading to her gritty face yellow bricks leading to oz she squats sits before us towers over us a good twenty maybe thirty feet falling up to its flat top she whispers to us she says

touch me

gospels of our fathers doubting thomases we do our fingers find their way into the holes of her side we find the holes in her wrists our hands hide inside her crevices squeeze tight please might we pull ourselves up our flushed faces press tight against her own cool cheek i kiss her with lips wet and open the higher i climb the more i grind my hips into hers the tighter i hold on to her the more she trembles the more i tremble the tighter i hold on to her the harder i hug her the more i tremble the more she trembles until i reach the top fall over the ledge onto her smooth velvety hood

hugging her caressing her

goddamn goddamn gizzards with gravy great googlie mooglies

i stand stretch arms high and wide i touch the sky scream my devotion to her everlasting beauty wiggle my hips drop trou hang cock over the edge let fly with a massive psychotic piss grape kool aid spraying up and up and up and out of the canyon some lost urinary lasso swirling spiraling mobius stripping
look ma i can rope cattle with my dick and a couple of bud tall boys

yellow yelps from the others coming up below before me they mutter they moan their newly baptized heads poke up over the edge one at a time chrono keith then we hear grunts we hear kevin saying

put your hand there

put your foot there

bert's pale flushed sweating head pops up then an arm then a second desperate arm grasping at the flat surface pulling himself up and rolling over arms spread breath gasping he whimpers quietly dramatically kevin behind him pulling himself up shaking his head he's too nice a guy to say anything now he's tripping too much to remember twenty seconds later we wander around the top of the rock the big rock the obelisk with the flat top about the size of a couple of king size beds we look over the edge we spit we watch the spittle sail through and along with her breath until she drops them one at a time into the water silent plop plop plops

what a relief

we have our idiot moments we are only twenty years old we believe in life everlasting we wrestle on the edges we pretend to lose our balance and slip we pretend to push each other off we pretend to walk the tight rope in the circus we pretend to blindfold ourselves we really blindfold ourselves our antics come to a sudden stop kevin forgets to pretend he really does slip almost falls off anchors away up up and away hi ho silver to the batmobile robin all for one one for all chrono grabs his hand saves his stoned tripping dirty hippie ass self we all take a collective deep breath we laugh nervously we’re dosed twenty seconds later we forget we laugh out loud we wander about we look over the edge we spit we watch the spittle we wander about

we find our place in the world

we find our spots

we kick back we lounge ponder our navels we worship diana we close our eyes ra burns love onto our faces such exotic eyelid theater we so love each other we so love our cocks we so love our daily bowel movements we each sing our respective songs kevin sings willie nelson chrono sings the ramones their harmonies odd but sugary their songs swirling in colors supernatural psychofunkapussypurple blending with my own simple hallucinations pleasant comforting in that julie andrews dancing across the mountain meadow sort of way the hills are motherfucking alive baby

until they’re not

music dims goes gray silence

dark thoughts ooze from the cracks in the rock

satan stands before jesus in the desert dawn we are forty days in the hole forty nights to be told open sesame ali fucking baba infidels are we all a cloud shrouds apollo’s chariot cheroot chewing cherubs cart scrolled banners across the sky like biplanes beseeching us to drink diet pepsi on a gloomy afternoon at the county fair they scream for us to repent

the flood it comes

we can’t help ourselves this sadness admidst the happiness we just can’t get right with the world is a party the world rejoices whilst we weep i start a joke that starts the whole world crying i cry tears that start the whole world laughing lingers on the edge of our souls prickling pins and needles a hand a foot gone to sleep haven’t slept in days having stepped in places not known murky mad maudlin

bert groans chrono sings the ramones twenty twenty twenty four hours a day kevin loses his way does he know then that stella will break his heart does he know then that bert wants his parts does he cut and run because of the rock does she whisper wisdom across his cock

eenie meenie minie moe catch a nigger by the toe if he hollers let him go

the preacherman high up in his pulpit a worn bible held aloft above his head waved threateningly he says we are all doomed to hell the best we can do is lay prostrate on the ground eyes averted from his high holiness beg for his all powerful mercy beg for his everlasting forgiveness we bleed for our sins

darlin’ i bleed for you and i’m going to hell

the silly swirls of psilocybin sadness gnaw at my psyche baby it ain’t you it’s just me baby it ain’t blue it’s just misery in the ice cream churn on an early august sunday evening the hand crank jerky and grinding the old man pouring in ice sprinkling on salt rock and kosher uncle ben making fun of my clumsiness my aunt annette shushing him saying ben he be book smart he ain’t goin’ to have to work like you do

uncle ben he frowns aunt annette she crosses her thick popeye like arms across her ample breast satisfied of another battle won uncle ben he mutters i know uncle ben he’ll take it out on his own boys later i know i see belts swinging i see backhands flying worst of all i see words slicing souls

uncle ben he dies on his day bed his body twisted and writhing torn by arthritis his gizzard all swiss cheesy with ulcers oh those early cuthbert georgia evenings uncle ben sitting in the dark den the glow of the television lighting his pale face before the television in his rocker a tee vee tray before him a bowl of buttermilk with saltine crackers spoon to slurping lips spoon to slurping lips

silly swirls of sadness amidst the brilliance of the day we’re all up on the rock set placed thrust within the depression slashed across the very bottom of the gorge nestled within the folds of the lower appalachia undulating along among the earth’s crust marbelous dire outcroppings cut worn defined by condescending watery veins way up in north georgia surrounded by silly swirls of sadness admidst the brilliance of the day
god is great god is good let us thank her for this safe haven for our sadness where we can bring it down where we can let it slip away where we can let it slide away ra showers washes us scrubs us pink where we can simply sit still cleanse ourselves

the dark ooze it washes down the side of the rock into the water

i slowly stand stretch arms high and wide i touch the sky scream my devotion to her everlasting beauty wiggle my hips drop trou hang cock over the edge let fly with a massive psychotic piss grape kool aid spraying up and up and up and out of the canyon some lost urinary lasso swirling spiraling mobius stripping

i lower myself down off the rock squat at the river’s edge cup my hands dip them into the holy water splash chilly recognition acceptance renewed adulation

she kisses me with cold lips and warms my soul

chrono follows me down kevin follows him we look up

bert sits on the rock like fucken rodin

kevin he says putting a hand over his eyes to shield the sun he says loudly enough to be heard over the quiet roar of the stream he says hey man come on down

we gotta get back to this world

bert he looks over his chin in hand he says his head moves from side to side he says no

bert he stands up he raises his arm he says you know guys i just don’t know why i gotta come down off this rock i mean i’m way the fuck up here and you’re way the fuck down there don’t you know there are nooks and crannies for me to grab or worse not grab and fall and and if i fall it’s gonna hurt there might be blood those are rocks down there for crissake i’m thinking it ain’t so bad up here i could get used to it up here maybe you guys could bring me some water or something throw me up an apple or two this dark shit oozing from the rocks is kind of spooky but it ain’t so bad i think i’m good

bert sits on his rock like fucken rodin

i scramble up the rock sit down next to him i just sit there squeeze a look sideways kevin looks up at us chrono spits hands on hips he looks down chrono he ain’t got no time for no sissies fast forward chrono is forty he’s giving handjobs for heroin kevin disappears into texas then to los angeles we only hear we don’t really know kevin he looks up at us he says hey man come on down it ain’t so bad bert he says why there’s nothing down there for me i lean over i whisper dude it’s the shrooms don’t you worry none all this shit all this dark ooze it just goes away it just disappears he says eyes darting back and forth me to kevin to me to kevin he says yeah but

what if it doesn’t go back to normal

kevin he spreads his arms he says hey baby welcome to the new normal

we do this for hours until the sun is turning red over the edge of the canyon until finally bert he just shrugs he says oh kay

and he climbs down

bert he starts walking toward the path the trail walks up the path doesn’t say a thing he picks up the pace we hustle to keep up fast forward ninety eighties bert moves to san francisco we don’t really know one day i’m on the bus i think i see him i mention it to stella i say funniest thing i coulda sworn i saw bert on the street today funny huh two years later we get a call from bert’s little brother bert he’s dead died in key west there’s a memorial stone a stepping stone in the aids memorial park bert’s name is there

fuck

that dark ooze

it taints the soul man maybe i ducked a bullet don’t know how fuck that dark ooze chrono he gets arrested he goes to rehab he goes home to his parents house never hear from him cocksucker still owes me money never loan money to a junky kevin fuck stella breaks his heart he breaks in two crumbles moves to new orleans moves to texas moves to california gets lost in malibu wouldn’t be surprised if he’s into high colonics

every now and then i revisit that rock

i find my place in the world

i find my spot

i sing my song

that dark ooze

keeps me a little unbalanced

tallulah her waters they cleanse my heart and all that