three states in three days
I might be prone to calling the last couple of days uneventful. I mean, I spent most of Wednesday sitting on my ass in my Uncle's living room watching House on you-tube & today consisted of waiting for dinner at 2:30, eating, eating, eating, playing games (darts with my cousins -the scores i wrote up on the chalk board in my grandparents' basement from last summer were still up -i erased most of 'em, apples to apples where in i kicked everyone's ass but good & dominos), sneaking cigarettes & ignoring football while finishing Breakfast of Champions for the second time.
But, last night.
I went for a walk in Newmarket New Hampshire. & I turned it into an adventure by just crossing the tracks fairly unintentionally.
crunching of my steps
may be salf or ice
can't tell in this mist
& at this hour
on the damp New Hampshire streets-
glows with fiction
unreal - did my life
really lead me here?
selfish thoughts of
course work
decaying realty signs
Rudy 2008
a car passes & my yawn
faces with the sound
of the engine
if I were three years older
might walk into a pub
-any I could find-
& observe my drink slowly
but I walk intentless
farther down than expected
the only marker
of impending other-side-of-the-
tracks is children's shoes
on the wire
wet & dripping
it leads to a soft shoulder
sand & rock -mud
look up to my right
a graveyard expands
into the fog the mist
on Elm Street
short fence
I do not climb over
at the entrance
there is no closed gate
just a sign
No Dogs Allowed
Police Take Notice
I enter
I do not cough
I do not laugh or spit or smoke
I hardly breathe
around the paved corner
I collect ice - snow
from a patch of grass
beside a gravestone I cannot read
not in the dim light
leave finger strokes
run from headlights
I hide between some hedges
trot through the graves
to the pavement
hide again - behind a stone
read only the date
1942 1930
more than one body beneath me
the headlights pass
quickly walk
find the exit
the soft shoulder
carrying a ball of ice
my hands so frozen
want to preserve this
let the melting snow
sink into my skin my coat
it is dark
it is late
back indoors & my shaking legs
from between the hedges
still cold
ice from the cemetary
broken on the front step
where have I been tonight?
& then, I still haven't gotten into my mad Thursday through Monday of last week, now, have I? Maybe I'll save those stories for when I come back to Cali in a couple weeks. Maybe everything will be more resolved by then anyhow.
How can I be so tired before 12:30 at night?
Good night all.
But, last night.
I went for a walk in Newmarket New Hampshire. & I turned it into an adventure by just crossing the tracks fairly unintentionally.
crunching of my steps
may be salf or ice
can't tell in this mist
& at this hour
on the damp New Hampshire streets-
glows with fiction
unreal - did my life
really lead me here?
selfish thoughts of
course work
decaying realty signs
Rudy 2008
a car passes & my yawn
faces with the sound
of the engine
if I were three years older
might walk into a pub
-any I could find-
& observe my drink slowly
but I walk intentless
farther down than expected
the only marker
of impending other-side-of-the-
tracks is children's shoes
on the wire
wet & dripping
it leads to a soft shoulder
sand & rock -mud
look up to my right
a graveyard expands
into the fog the mist
on Elm Street
short fence
I do not climb over
at the entrance
there is no closed gate
just a sign
No Dogs Allowed
Police Take Notice
I enter
I do not cough
I do not laugh or spit or smoke
I hardly breathe
around the paved corner
I collect ice - snow
from a patch of grass
beside a gravestone I cannot read
not in the dim light
leave finger strokes
run from headlights
I hide between some hedges
trot through the graves
to the pavement
hide again - behind a stone
read only the date
1942 1930
more than one body beneath me
the headlights pass
quickly walk
find the exit
the soft shoulder
carrying a ball of ice
my hands so frozen
want to preserve this
let the melting snow
sink into my skin my coat
it is dark
it is late
back indoors & my shaking legs
from between the hedges
still cold
ice from the cemetary
broken on the front step
where have I been tonight?
& then, I still haven't gotten into my mad Thursday through Monday of last week, now, have I? Maybe I'll save those stories for when I come back to Cali in a couple weeks. Maybe everything will be more resolved by then anyhow.
How can I be so tired before 12:30 at night?
Good night all.