dogma

July 29, 2006 § 1 Comment

Rules

1. Rule number one: HAVE FUN.  The best surfer is the one having the most fun.

2. You’ll never have fun if you try to be cool.

3. When it’s time to stop, stop, but never quit.

4. You must be able to see the truck, or truck-equivalent, from the water.

The only one we ever broke isn’t on that list.  Don’t get on a moving train.

And like most good tests it came up in the middle of a night on a side line out in the middle of nowhere and the only damn trains were moving ones.

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ourmother

July 28, 2006 § Leave a comment

ourmother
it’s just there’s somuch todo&tothink about…it’s become an occupation really, betterthan a preoccupation which would
ve instead rendered me impatient ungrateful&cranky…but I can’t get away from it…not like missing a lover or in a wishing itwere somethingelse but in having to, noinbeingcalled asif itwere a calling to manage to participate in to shepherd…ah there it isto witness her unfolding and she isgone; the tent the uproar& her greatglee &it is awesome to behold

and allofasudden Im left wondering if the newspaper is still being delivered to a home that is now a figment of everyone’s imagination

oh wendy and angie and you know and all the rest who visit morethan the people who dont she answers smartly when ourbrother asked whod been visiting but her stride is longer and if you set her in front of a plate of food once she starts shell keep it until its allgone unless of course you ask if shes hungry which she isnt but then

she pokes her head up and says the news from Israel is not good I wonder if I should phone and offer them the house if they think they could live in YWG

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daughtering

July 22, 2006 § Leave a comment

my mother is unfolding and it is happening just as we knew it would down to the finest detail and yet it is asif we have no idea as if it is some great mystery i mean it feels as if we have no idea what is going on as if we will not know what to do as if we’re backto expecting there to be someone other than us to fix it as if we were once again kids and there it is that thing we spend our whole life trying to outsmart loss and asif we expect that to feel like being left and not knowing what is going to happen…&who is going to take care of the everything that is us…as if we didn’t know, as if we weren’t standing face into the wind…

but we did and we do because we are grown and i what the hell else are you going to do

these are the moments that count, the sorry doesn’t cover it moments you know…the on the bus off the bus and of course the worrier worries and the he that doesnt doesnt because his older sister is, sheesh

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divisions

July 14, 2006 § 1 Comment

he looks over the map of the middle east, his fingers itching, muttering, his mantoman sense of it’s past time for talking encroaching on his onceagood soldier always a good soldier’s hatred for war but what are you going to do he wants to know looking me deadon daring me deadon because I’m one of theothers whose job on the line it is to keep talking even when you shouldn’t have to ask or say like yesterday when the builders working on the house behind us with the mountain behind them that reflects even the barest sound which one time got me out of bed in the middle of the night to go find those SOB’s who were making the goddamned racket only to find that it was a couple sitting on their deck talking in the river’s mist of night and giggling everyonce in a while and the sound rolled down the mountain into our bedroom window anyway the builders working on the house behind us all of a sudden for the first time since they started building the house which bynow they’re nearly done with & allof a damnsudden today some idiot overthere is playing a damned bosch construction radio and it’s been going on all damned day and he was getting sick&tired of it and the sooner they got out of there the better and no he wasn’t going to say a goodgoddamned thing would I please come here and help him with this other thing that had gotten him outside where he could really hear the radio in the second place at which point &click I said no, just sec whereyou going he asked just sec I saidagain I’ll be right back because inspite of my better judgement and always intending not to be pointed &clicked by him he is my true love and there is division of labors and it is my job on the line to keep talking evenwhen you shouldn’t have to ask and whether or not it makes a shit of a difference I was brought up having to say, so&but with no huff in my walk with no backward or forward provocation intended no toldyaso’s or dareya’s intended I walked with nopurpose in mind over to the guys on the job and asked eye to eye if we could reach a compromise on the music oh is it too loud he asked yes I said starting to explain and no problem he said moving righton to sorry, and walking over to turn it down, thank you I said no problem he said again and as if it were a joint venture I waited while he turned the radio down and he went back to work like it was no problem, and like it hadbeen no problem homeagain homeagain his fat hen I went

and though it’s quiet now on our backside myman is still rubbing his itchy fingers and muttering over the map…

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ironies

July 13, 2006 § 3 Comments

so i’m daughtering these days a mother who is doddering, she lives in canada now, having fled from behind the green curtain returning with my father now dead to their home and native land in the youthful days of their sixties, i live in the yooessofA, recently a bi-national scared into citizenship by the prez& his cronies and it was a good move, i can’t believe how long i was disenfranchised and stood for it, me mistress of the line and making lots of noise on it, anyhow the thing is i’m making lots of trips these days and am subject to a good deal of what i’m beginning to think of as an upclose and way too personal loss of freedom thanks to the prez& his fearmongering cronies since i’m subject to the full scale search and patdown every time i fly since i have a titanium superflex knee, heretofore affectionately known as my zippy zimmer anyway last time it came close to critical mass, next time, i better have the number of my lawyer handy, paul already said he wouldn’t post bail

even now i’m not sure what the hulabaloo was about but the woman patting me down, and up and down and all around because my knee sets off the alarm, and up and down and around the boobs&ass with the back of her gloved hand as if that made a whit of a difference started screaming and her boss, the pit man so to speak, came running and simpering all about “ma’am if you do that we’ll have to arrest you,” again i’m not sure what the fuss was about, i was simply going to trade them a looksee for a touch, i mean whatthefuck right, but ohhhh no…that was grounds for arrest on lewd and lascivious i mean that was no nevermind as far as i was concerned and they could have had a private screening….not that i don’t appreciate the irony, collecting them as i do, but like i said, you know any good lawyers?

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blind curves cont’d

July 12, 2006 § Leave a comment

…and they the ladies of the penhouse hated it sniffily, though they laughed first, it pulled them out of the mood it was distracting and embarrassing what did my brother have to do with it they wanted to know so I fetch&carried after a  snappy line for being whittled down to the size of my britches allthewhile still not altogether sure the other didn’t work… I mean allofthat isexactly how it felt…which isnot to say that if you started with your brother pulling your panties upshort you would think of a man in a redtruck

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blind curves

July 12, 2006 § 1 Comment

a red truck pulls out in front of me at the end of a straight away on one of those blind curves in Pocket Canyon and after reaching 35 miles an hour in third gear, never once wavers off that mark, annoying the hell out of my importance until with nothingbetter to do I notice the immaculate &empty except for a spare tire truck-bed and a silver haired missus in the front seat and watching it track for miles down the road without a lot of fight or bother, I get the feeling that the man with the silverhairedmissus in a red 1967 ½ ton ford pickup truck has been traveling this stretch of road in that damned truck since before I even learned to drive

and it feels just like when my brother used to pull my panties

up short

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