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August 2000 - Letter 31
So August, finally
you
are
a few good dreams
(Metheny
& his glass recycling enterprise
his anger @ a failed process)
(Mom & the insurance saleslady
who
waits.
Finally you are one night
of sleeping straight
thru.
What a luxury oh August.
How much we take
for granted.
August you are the return
of the rain, neighbors
who prefer grudge
matches
little girls tromping
thru new garden beds
visions of calls to CPS.
August you are a daughter's
energetic return, a crying
Grandma, one more happy
distraction.
You are Bumbershoot
rehearsals
erotic scratching
how
many more
difficult runes?
August you are the winter
of
my spiritual life
a period of gestation (what
precedes
rebirth)
a chill wind over the floes
of old outmoded habits.
Isolation & a good
process.
If any one ever asks, August
you are fun, necessary & not
as hard as you sound but
truth is you are self-imposed
hell, you are sleep disrupted, are
your own weather system
your own
gravitational pull
difficult
& esoteric
mysterious & prone to delusion
needy & ungraceful, plodding.
You are whining cats
neglected dogs.
You are stereo
flea-biting
the emergence of everyone's
abuse under the first
good release
you
are
bureaucratic hell & some
prefer coffee
you are
the gnarly return
of deadlines
you are selfish &
greedy
if I had a rock I'd …
What about my friends August?
What about the stars
the beach?
What about anything else
besides
your insane demands
your gravity
&
your innuendoes?
I'm leaving you August.
Perhaps you will get religion
& be more of a flow
next yr.
I can't endure you
forever.
peN#996 - 7:22A - 8.31.00
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