Daily Lamentations 09.03.10

And the train you confidently take leave of for another you meet again several stations later, and you slowly step toward it, head hung like a wet sunflower, ashamed, yet it accepts you graciously, cursing all these trains for making you late, then cursing these trains for taking you to all the places you rather not go.

Daily Lamentations 09.02.10

In this dream I was walking along a path of packed dirt and loose gravel.  I felt the stones’ sharp angles through my shoes.  A metal fence to my left with leaves growing through it.  To my right a farm of horses like the ones I quickly drove past in Utah; the farms surrounded by fence posts made of tree branch and wire.  At a distance the horses were larger than normal, their heads peaking at fifty feet or more, the neck and head twice as swollen as their chests and bellies; the ranchers tending to them, standing in their shadows, almost shadows themselves if not for the red from their shirts peeking through or the blue of their jeans, barely reaching above the unmarked hooves, moving about in the horses’ majesty.  The horse I remember, a milk chocolate brown, tossing its head, a golden mane, shaking off mosquitoes or shaking its head at some sort of disbelief, then slowly disappearing behind green fields, greenery only allowed in dreams and tampered photographs as I continued down the path, feeling the stones sharp angles through my shoes.

Daily Lamentations 9.01.10

I don’t regret the things I haven’t done while staying here.  I regret all the things I haven’t done by staying here.

Daily Lamentations 8.11.10

Ask me if  your image conjures up any stirrings of hate against you and I shall reply, “Dear sir, I don’t think enough of you to do that.”

Daily Lamentations 8.10.10

Why can’t others shave with rifles?

Daily Lamentations 8.9.10

Allow me to make a suggestion to those in charge of our psychology, one of modern convenience and practicality, possibly innovative in its design: What if  we could design a mask like those provided in airplanes during times of low cabin pressure to drop from above whenever we became anxious?  If we had this device, one might be inclined to leave the apartment more often.  It could even prevent an individual from calling out of work, increasing company activity. The apparatus might also hinder one from biting his/her fingernails too much.

The first onset of panic would trigger this mechanism to fall from the clouds, stopping within six inches of an individual’s face, from any given location, domestic or international.  Then that individual would follow the simple instructions provided.

Simply place the elastic band around your head, adjusting the band to fit snuggly, then pull on the plastic tubing to release the flow of oxygen. Resume normal breathing through the little yellow cup and baggie. Go about your normal business activity and have a great day.

Upon reflection I do anticipate minor flaws in this idea, one being that a mask could easily get snagged on a passing bus or antenna, dragging the individual away with it, causing serious physical harm, rendering the mask useless; the fear being too great for the mask to work properly.  The intent of the mask is to provide temporary relief, not a permanent solution.  “Panic resistant, not panic proof.”  It might be best to print that prominently somewhere on the product.

Besides, society has more than its fair share of nervous individuals which is another flaw in and of itself and more of a reflection of the society we live in.  I imagine a handful of masks being released at once on the same street.  Suppose after placing the masks over our mouths we continue on our way, but not before the plastic tubes from which the masks hang from become entangled, causing more panic and more masks to be released simultaneously.  One person gets entangled in this person, one person gets caught up in that person and so on; mass hyperventilation and 72 more masks drop from the heavens; the streets become a jumbled mess, a giant knot of plastic tubing, blocks and blocks of people stuck together breathing heavily through yellow masks, swinging their arms and briefcases in a huff, getting further trapped within themselves causing even greater hysteria, passing out from lack of oxygen…

….*phew*…

…please forget that I made this suggestion or that the whole idea was ever mentioned.  It gets me nervous thinking of airplanes and airplane crashes, of placing my head between my knees, assuming crash position.  And urine trickling down my legs.

Now, there must be paper bag lying around here somewhere.

Daily Lamentations 8.8.10

Windows reflect; windows are for reflection.  Staring out at winter landscapes (horses exhaling through their nose) yet still reflecting.  Staring outward yet constantly looking inward, especially at night where the reflections in windows become clearer, even clearer than mirrors.  And the shadows are present, circling your dimly lit eyes; eyes which are tunnels that trains enter, endlessly running along rail lines without exit.  Shadows squeezed between your creased brow; only shock can release them.  Night is one endless shadow where I bump into ghosts and ghosts shoulder me.  Where individuals constantly run into me without a word of remorse which often makes me question my existence.  That automatic doors and automatic hand dryers don’t work for me only heightens my case, having to rely on others to exit a building or dry my wet fingertips.  And children use my foot as a step.

Daily Lamentations 8.6.10

A corpse surrounded by apples,

yes, that’s exactly how I feel.

Daily Lamentations 8.4.10

Eve liked the way the blades of grass felt against her naked toes.  Adam spent a good part of the day fiddling with his genitals.  And this is how many of the days passed in Eden although at times Adam would follow around blackbirds.

It was the spiders that first bit the apple.  Eve watched a ladybug crawl across her bent knee, its tiny legs tickling her skin; she giggled.  Adam was behind  a bush raping a blackbird, blood trickling over his forearms, constantly attacked by the blackbird’s beak.  Perhaps Adam didn’t know any better or perhaps he knew exactly what he was doing all along; he carried that knowledge secretly within him.

The 1st spider crawled along the flesh of the apple and bit down into it.  The rush of information that entered its head was too much for it.  Its head exploded all over the apple and the surrounding leaves.  A 2nd spider stopped, tasting the blood of the first; Knowledge absorbed into its brain much slower, the 2nd spider retained this information, returning with it to its brothers and sisters.

God grew angry at this. “They should have used their spines as ladders.  Did I not teach them anything?  Did I not create superior beings?  One should have climbed on the back of the other, they  should have helped one another.”

In a fury, God removed the vertebrae from both Adam and Eve who were then forced to spend their days slithering around the garden.  Adam was eventually attacked by a leopard.  Eve fell asleep during a rainstorm, drowning in several inches of rainwater, unable to swim or lift her head above the puddles.

Several months later the blackbird Adam raped gave birth to an abominable creature:  a man with the head of a bird and black wings instead of arms; its legs, torso and feet were remarkably human.  It terrorized the spiders who had just begun building homes for themselves amongst the garden.

Disappointed, God destroyed everything. He destroyed the landscape and all of His creatures and God began again.  We are the 12th attempt and He chooses to ignore it or perhaps we’ve been neglected, lost amongst the universe.  We are too arrogant to think otherwise.  We think, “I am the universe.” yet we are only a tiny role in it (or perhaps we have no role other than extinction), thrown in amongst handfuls of galaxies, squished between planets and stars.  We are like a thrown jack beneath a dresser, too far under to see, too out of reach for tiny fingers to retrieve, and through time, forgotten.

God is old yet God is all seeing; someone sell Him a cheap pair of spectacles?

Daily Lamentations 8.3.10

Eventually the man thinks-no the man does not think at all.