Gangster

I was on the upper west side of Manhattan, driving a futon with David and one of my painting students. David was driving, but I took over to parallel park in between two car-sized bowls of oatmeal. After trying and failing to park, I got out of the futon and my student got into the driver's seat. I asked her, and then told her, to let me drive, since it was my futon. She was offended by this and got out and and walked away. David and I left her and went into a big, old house, where we found my sister and another friend in the attic. We all rolled our own joints out of dollar bills and sat smoking them sprawled out on the attic floor.

Poetry

I am in the South Valley: trees, farms, horses, dirt roads. It looks like my work but I feel good about being there. The sun illuminates beautiful meadows, I sit in the shaded dirt road. The shade is pitch-black. Chiarascuro.

I look out on everything wishing more than ever that I could write poetry. I try, maybe coming up with something good but I recall nothing after waking.

mostly disgusting

I can smell my sweat. and my feet are cold and hot at the same time. Mostly dry. The tips of my fingers have little cuts that have been sore for over a week. I have to pee and my heart has been beating fast for hours, but not fast it just feels fast. It's more a breathing issue. Or a consumption issue. I think it's narcissism. And I'm thinking of you reading this. Exactly! I don't think the scarf I wore to bed is helping all of this. Lets address this issue. I'm wondering what Steve Barry was thinking. I'm going to follow up with him. Ewww there is sweat where the scarf was. I'm too lazy to get dressed let alone take off my clothes, which lends itself to itself. But it becomes a dermatological issue because I live in a desert and I wash my hands often. I'm not too lazy to wash my hands, but I am too lazy to put on lotion. Now I have eczema. Right, and it's not that my heart is beating fast, it's that I can feel it extra loud in my body. And i'm concerned about this fear of flying that it might severely impede my future life. or maybe I'll just have to make my work around that. Like build a bridge out of cardboard to Venice for the Biennial that my work gets into... you know. right? gross.

please accept my insomnia.

i love you.

Scary hotel II

I was a teaching assistant for a summer class, living in a dormitory/hotel. One night I was standing in the hallway talking to another TA through his half open door about how disappointed we were with the faculty, who were shirking obligations and leaving us with too much work. He leaned towards me and said darkly, "You have to do something about this." I responded that I would do what I could, but I had no more power than he did to change things. He took my hand in his and as he stared into my eyes, he squeezed until he was crushing my fingers. I managed to pull my hand away, and said to him slowly, "If you hurt me on my body, I promise that I will hurt you back even more." My words turned into a handwritten, signed note that slid under his now-closed door, and as I walked down the hallway back to my room, I regretted that he now had evidence to blame me, if any physical misfortune did happen to befall him.

When I opened the door to my room it was dark inside but moonlight was coming in brightly through the window, illuminating two thick streams of water pouring down from the ceiling. I looked up and saw a black stain on the ceiling where the water was coming from, and in the center of the dark wet mark, a nest of snakes was shining in the white light from the moon as they slithered in and out of their mating mass.

Flowers as I wait.

I wash myself in shallow natural pools, inside the condo, getting ready.

I look outside to the backyard and see the sunflowers have huge flowers looking up at the sky, but it's night and freezing. What will we do with the sunflowers? Make a documentary about them and how they grew from little nothings. I set about getting my camera and filming my friends. I get a clip of a stranger opening their mouth then shaking their head, wildly. I also interview Sonya about the sunflowers and the whole time I'm standing in the shallow pools. I'm planning on giving the red school jackets that the sunflowers are wearing away to people as prizes: but the sunflowers actually don't have the jackets yet.

I wonder if we can give the sunflower heads away as food.

Scary hotel

I was spending the night at a hotel with my best friend, Cassie, and my cat, Bunson. The room was very run-down and instead of beds there were two thin cots for us to sleep on. Cassie pointed to a spot low on the wall where two long rat tails were poking out from the plaster. They were sleeping, she said, but they would wake up at night and come into our room. The two tails were extremely large, and I imagined that the rats that they were attached to, on the other side of our wall, must be enormous. I became very afraid that they would kill Bunson in the middle of the night, and felt guilty for bringing her into this situation. She's too old and frail to travel, I thought, what have I done by taking her along with me to this cheap hotel room where she is vulnerable to these awful creatures? I would try to stay awake all night and watch her, I decided, but I was already so tired, and I knew that at some point I would nod off and be unable to protect her.

Sailing sailing, ever on?

Ordering lunch at a dark stand. "Breakfast burrito without bacon," David gave me five dollars-I pay with that and 11 dimes one of which is a paper coupon for a dime at this particular restaurant. "take the dimes" I forgot that the best thing they make are fish tacos. A boat is taking off. The sunset is red. Red clouds look like boats taking off. It seems like I'm on a ship. I'm in a field. Santa Claus in a shiny suit with ruffles lays on top of an early 60's car. "He's covered in jewels" Each of his buttons is shiny like a diamond. There are some old women around him. I walk down the deck to my cabin. Hearing/ thinking of plots of how people are kept here against their will. Cabin is small and dark. My bunk bed is balanced precariously on top of one pole sometimes. There is small open closet with many extra curtains hanging in it. I look at the curtains on the windows, they don't match but they're clean. I'm hear to research something. I throw my pillow on the bunk that has purplish covers.