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June, 2007




6/7/07-Steam rising off fresh coffee the rich mixed flavors of hot black-eyed peas baked potato and cooked buttered carrot pieces blinds closed against a western late afternoon glare the smooth flow of ink from a pen another day nearing its end waitress patron manager everyone comfortable in assigned role a low energy event little thought required the lines memorized and stamped upon their faces the motorcyclist when he woke up this morning had no idea this would be his final time to eat a migas breakfast pleasantly healthy with tofu instead of eggs whole wheat tortillas in lieu of flour and plenty of fresh squeezed orange juice to round out his last meal gently he soothed comforted and tickled an angry little indian girl till entranced with his black beard gold tooth and red bandana her eyes yet wet with tears she showed bright as the dawn a shy smile...




6/5/07-Bible study again tonight and so I drive far north the swallows soaring wheeling at 183 and burnet the traffic like thundering falls a lethal presence a lion's roar the image gray and homespun in my bedroom's dirty mirror some unborn child's gramps water glass lemon wedge consumed to help keep the skin cancer spots away yet at the eatery where I stop before class a winsome make-up free collegiate lass reminding of mid-sixties san francisco berkeley being in prime demonstrations tom wolfe's bus vietnam tear gas and police batons smashing soft skulls bends down close in so intimate a friendly way as if to see I mean to say here's the offer I'm just looking for a little bigger tip deal how can you resist ol' man and as her shift adjusts shows me every lovely thing better than national geographic oh my I'm married it's true and happily with appetites well pleasured already yet have no guilt in a sudden new nether region bulge that might in a younger incarnation have seemed embarrassing as I must find my way arousal on display to the men's room for a more wasteful purpose such a silly thing that an antique like me might still yield up a DNA coil or two for the species' pool of genes well you never know of course in post apocalyptic times with here and there a young woman most tenderly to bed I might have some use err my or our kind's demise though nothing for which to hope even in a semi-senile head such awful and glorious fantasies persist praise the lord...

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