Coffee Shop Thoughts.
4/25/2005 10:22:35 AM
Caught with my hands down my pants... sort of...
Red headed nymph with the crayons
I spy you scratching your lip
while you talk on the phone
to someone
who I imagine to be
a lover
some lucky man
I can only assume
which is of course
my nature
from another couch
ten feet away
in this chic cafe
If I had two cans
and a string
Id call you too,
then place kisses
at the corner of your eyes
so that when the rains come
I could drink your tears
even though you would be in Corsica
perhaps in the arms of another man
I can only assume
which is of course
my nature
from another country
we have yet to find.
To call some girl a Nymph...
to call her a lesser goddess
What is to make her one. shut up. fuck face.
These were the thoughts coming to me this morning after my first cup of coffee. Nothing having changed in my mouth. The constant dull pressure. The constant dull pressure. The constant dull pressure. The constant dull pressure. This insidious infection which insists on persisting is a stunning specimen of stamina and savagery. The doctor has refused to prescribe more antibiotics and I fear Im in for another week of pure hell. I havent spoken to my wife since our unfortunate marriage, nor have I spoken with that bastard Caldwell or that fool Hector. Its safe to say that our friendships are on rocky terrain. This morning I received a phone call from my long lost girlfriend, Pookie, while I was at the cafe across from the Red headed Nymph. She asked me how I was doing and I said suffering.
Suffering? How bad are you suffering? She asked me. She loves to indulge me which is why we get along so well. I said, well, its hard to gage: did you ever see that god-awful Mel Gibson movie, The Passion of Christ.
Yes.
Well good. I said. Use that as a barometer. Im suffering in Christ like proportions and so far as how much, how do you measure that? Its like trying to figure who suffered more? Christ or the poor sonsabitches that had to sit through that tortuous, vacuous, highly unoriginal, melodramatic booger ball of a movie! If I had the choice of having to watch that again or go for a root canal Id choose the latter. It seems to me that Christ had it easy compared to the movie goers and that Mel Gibsons the one that should have been tossed on the rack for high crimes against humanity.
Im sorry to hear that honey. She said. So I take it your tooth isnt any better.
No.
Are you taking any medication?
Im all out.
The rest of the conversation was a round table of niceties which ended in tentative plans for dinner sometime next week.
The other interesting thing that happened was that I received a missive via electronic mail. (Thats old skool for e-mail.)
A good friend of mine from Jersey said she was very concerned because she knows that Ive been drinking a lot and so offered to accompany me to an AA meeting. This may or may not be true and if it was I dont know how she would know anyway because I havent seen her since last August. What ever the case, it was a very odd set of events not without irony. Ill have to call her at once so as to ease her worried heart. Ive been trying to think of an analogy in order to explain how I feel about all of this and this is what Ive come up with. Its as if you were home masturbating and suddenly your mom calls from Albuquerque to tell you, Honey... You should close your blinds at night. Its very dangerous out there. By the way I know this great Doctor; he specializes in sexual addictions...
The only way out of this sticky situation is to take it all the way and pretend you didnt hear her, and say Hey ma. Hows it goin? I was just thinkin of you.
If you think this is sick, stick around. Besides Ive always thought blinds were for perverts and Puritans. As a revolutionary, I prefer half drawn curtains and wines from the Rhone region.
peace.
4/25/2005 10:22:35 AM
Caught with my hands down my pants... sort of...
Red headed nymph with the crayons
I spy you scratching your lip
while you talk on the phone
to someone
who I imagine to be
a lover
some lucky man
I can only assume
which is of course
my nature
from another couch
ten feet away
in this chic cafe
If I had two cans
and a string
Id call you too,
then place kisses
at the corner of your eyes
so that when the rains come
I could drink your tears
even though you would be in Corsica
perhaps in the arms of another man
I can only assume
which is of course
my nature
from another country
we have yet to find.
To call some girl a Nymph...
to call her a lesser goddess
What is to make her one. shut up. fuck face.
These were the thoughts coming to me this morning after my first cup of coffee. Nothing having changed in my mouth. The constant dull pressure. The constant dull pressure. The constant dull pressure. The constant dull pressure. This insidious infection which insists on persisting is a stunning specimen of stamina and savagery. The doctor has refused to prescribe more antibiotics and I fear Im in for another week of pure hell. I havent spoken to my wife since our unfortunate marriage, nor have I spoken with that bastard Caldwell or that fool Hector. Its safe to say that our friendships are on rocky terrain. This morning I received a phone call from my long lost girlfriend, Pookie, while I was at the cafe across from the Red headed Nymph. She asked me how I was doing and I said suffering.
Suffering? How bad are you suffering? She asked me. She loves to indulge me which is why we get along so well. I said, well, its hard to gage: did you ever see that god-awful Mel Gibson movie, The Passion of Christ.
Yes.
Well good. I said. Use that as a barometer. Im suffering in Christ like proportions and so far as how much, how do you measure that? Its like trying to figure who suffered more? Christ or the poor sonsabitches that had to sit through that tortuous, vacuous, highly unoriginal, melodramatic booger ball of a movie! If I had the choice of having to watch that again or go for a root canal Id choose the latter. It seems to me that Christ had it easy compared to the movie goers and that Mel Gibsons the one that should have been tossed on the rack for high crimes against humanity.
Im sorry to hear that honey. She said. So I take it your tooth isnt any better.
No.
Are you taking any medication?
Im all out.
The rest of the conversation was a round table of niceties which ended in tentative plans for dinner sometime next week.
The other interesting thing that happened was that I received a missive via electronic mail. (Thats old skool for e-mail.)
A good friend of mine from Jersey said she was very concerned because she knows that Ive been drinking a lot and so offered to accompany me to an AA meeting. This may or may not be true and if it was I dont know how she would know anyway because I havent seen her since last August. What ever the case, it was a very odd set of events not without irony. Ill have to call her at once so as to ease her worried heart. Ive been trying to think of an analogy in order to explain how I feel about all of this and this is what Ive come up with. Its as if you were home masturbating and suddenly your mom calls from Albuquerque to tell you, Honey... You should close your blinds at night. Its very dangerous out there. By the way I know this great Doctor; he specializes in sexual addictions...
The only way out of this sticky situation is to take it all the way and pretend you didnt hear her, and say Hey ma. Hows it goin? I was just thinkin of you.
If you think this is sick, stick around. Besides Ive always thought blinds were for perverts and Puritans. As a revolutionary, I prefer half drawn curtains and wines from the Rhone region.
peace.