solstice day

   We swam in the bay on solstice day, arms slayed chaotic in joy and drunken stupidity.  Somehow,we both knew were making a memory, smiled, and spit a stream of water into the sky.  A moment fully in love with the notion of being alive.

rememberance day

    Father choked on his breakfast, Instant Quaker Oats--Apple and Cinammon flavour.  he hacked and gurgled and spewed until an artificial hunk of apple was dislodged.  he spat it out into his hand, looked it over, put it back into his mouth and chewed it with a fury.

    Sister watched television in the living room. She turned up the colume to drown out the old man's noise.  She knocked over a glass of orange juice returning the remote to the chair side table.  The glass smashed, spreading yellow liquid and turquoise glass all across the worn and weathered hardwood floor.

   The dog ran through the living room and got a piece of the turquoise glass in its paw.  It yelped and whined and ran up the stairs and crawled under mother's bed.

   Mother lay in bed reading romance novels, drinking coffee, smoking cigarettes, screaming at the dog to shut up.

pizza hut man

       He was trying to get back on himself back on his feet.  That's how his counselor had put it. "One step at a time, get yourself back on your feet."  He appreciated the help getting off the booze.  He missed his wife and kids, but they'd been gone so many years, he wouldn't even know where to find them.  He appreciated the job holding the pizza sign on Main St.  He got to see a lot of people.  It helped him to feel part of things again.  "One step at a time" .Each person that responded to his hello ws one small step.

    On a Tuesday, he said hello to a young mother walking her two children back from school.  She did not respond.  It reminded him of his wife and children.  He watched the children walk along with their mother for the entire length of the block, smiling a rememberance smile.  The mother looked back, but did not smile.  Fifteen minutes later the police came and took him to the station and questioned him, rude questions about sex.  He brought the sign back to the Pizza store.  They took the sign and paid him 30 dollars for the day and told him his services were no longer required.

morning eggs

    Morning eggs mix with blood, an arousing flavor of life and death.  The eggs are from the fridge, the blood comes from a canker sore on the inner part of my cheek that i bit into.  A day that begins with a finite ethos.
     The leaves remain green.  There is a respite these days, from what exactly, I'm not certain.  But there is a sense of it, an odd sense of solace.  It is strange, but it isn't weird.
     Perhaps it is merely something I dreamed last night.   We are victims of our dreams.  I don't recollect my dreams specifically--which makes it more unnerving, this sense of solace.  Perhaps it will come to me over me the course of the day.  It is  early yet.
    Just returned from my piss.  My face in the mirror looked acrid and inflamed.  I could attribute this to unconscious trauma that i have yet to actualize and acknowledge, but it is likely merely the result of the cheap laundry detergent i washed my pillow case in yesterday.