POEMS & SHORTS

November 23, 2009

“Wow, you have produced a lot of dirty clothes already…”

A quote from my wife this morning. So I suppose from last Thursday when they were washed, I have dirtied up more than my share, according to the fours days that have passed since…and I raced off to the bathroom to take a big dump. Ah, that sounds disgusting as I read the words right after but let’s face, there is not much in the world that tops the feeling of a good, long…and solid (has to be solid, eh?) shit. Relief, knows no other words, I might say or to might say, satisfying, which is another word to describe the same or to combine them in a phrase to be coined, Satisfying relief , knows no other words than a good, long solid shit. Okay. I feel empty after that…no pun intended. And who am I writing to as I form these sentences in what appears to be in personal letter form. Personal to whom? Scrutenisning. Scrutinizing to be exact… dyslexia boy…or man…or what…

Cold again this morning. Rubbing my hands together, blowing hot air on them before resting them back on the cold keys. Get it all out, I say. And if taking a shit is the theme here, it was not premeditated. It just crept up on me, I suppose the way shits do sometimes. God help me, I swallow disgusted at my own prose. All is one as one is well…and this is how it may or will have to be for now until I am in the creative clear again.

So back to the producing of dirty clothes, I suppose, which I have done before without any realistic approach…supposing I mean. Nu? Scratch that, lets try again. This, drabble (not to use dribble again) of pages, in my humble warped un-realistic opinion, is nothing but a production of dirty clothes…and too many. Motherfucker. Where am I again up here in Topanga, looking out into a forest full and lush with glorious canyon peaks beyond?

“You create a nightmare in a paradise, which is what you do. I mean no joking. Do you understand.” Quote from wife on her way out the door to work. And me, once again, working through this beautiful day.

5:54 and pitch black outside. Not much on my mind. Got lost in a porn site a friend recommended for fifty minutes. Feel very tainted right now even though I didn’t clench my cock, while staring wild at repeated cock sucking and pussy eating and ass licking followed by every which way fucking, fucking, fucking with me stroking, stroking, stroking into mad demented explosion with immediate crash like a sky dive with no parachute landing, a jump off a cliff onto dry land…god, I am thinking this out way too much.

I just watched…and stopped watching. So I’m left with a mild heaviness of disappointment in myself. And so what if I masturbated till the end? Why would that make me feel so much worse. Just don’t buy it. Just can’t buy it. Cannot. What a way to find tears. My lord, is it all moving in that direction? For my sake, I suppose, it will be the best. But please find me a new story in all of this. I mean I’m still looking…