forced awake in the middle of the night…

forced awake in the middle of the night because I find in the dream world and the lying in bed world myself full of wheezing and in fact this is light weight actually allergies to dandelions

now I don’t have a name to put
on anything any more
except
fucked
is sounding
good
right about
now
I could
say
kefir
is in large
part
not working
out for me
all the
solid objects
in the world
run from me
lest
you seek
to have
yourselves
punched
full of holes

I would pay a high price for some rest. it seems every time I turn around I’m being pulled in opposite directions. this cup of tea is my only friend in the world right now, is the way I think, is the way I have to think, yes, the way a drowning man can only hope for one thing, the surface world, the oxygen of land, or the birth of gills. if I am here, if you want me here so bad, make me a fish! I will swim passionate punches and sing to a full train car of insane people.

basketball, basket cases
battered – I don’t know
what I was dreaming
before I woke up
battled
nailed down boards
over the windows
to deter the high winds

in California
fires
jump from house to house
you don’t
need me
to tell you!
but it’s that one
across the street
that survives
unscathed

I am an in between house
burnt but not burnt
fully to the ground

so I am going to turn
my instant messages
off for awhile
that will just
be my way of seeking
rest
to make a vow of silence
even with
fingertips

writing journal entries
is something different
it is still directed at
myself after all

henry miller said –
I am not writing for an audience
but insane people
writing to kill readers and
book publishers

I’m sure he went through
a lot of frustration in his day
getting his stuff to print
and dealing with
the industry and its phoniness

I love to read
these days are madness to me
people keep asking how I’m doing
it is a pain to hear from someone the truth like, well, I’m not doing very well, and it is a pain to keep saying it. so much of it is a pain if you feel like hell but you have to keep getting up and getting up every morning at the same exact time in order to get out the door, get into work with hair put in order the way they want it, clean shaven, mumbles taken out of the mouth like an old woman removes her dentures at night.

is there a name for what is wrong with me? is it a list of things? is there a name, can it be uttered, or shall parents have to re-teach their children the alphabet? I used to call these wheezing nights asthma nights, the doctor says they are mere allergies. my eyes have begun to sting, then water. I had to put the Sandman down and turn in. this brief dreaming before I had to rise again muttering all kinds of fire. the pumpkins are already rotten and smelling on the front doorstep, and I just let them do their thing. three weeks before Halloween is too early, but they were given to me, so what could I do but accept them as gifts and watch them turn to mush before chance to carving them, lighting them up so shapes would glow out like they always have.

I want to have time again to read novels – I just have too much going on. it is really hard to figure out why I still insist on this being my favorite time of year, probably because of halloween and my affinity for it, but they keep saying Christmas comes earlier and earlier, which is something they need to get right before I re-steer rental cars through store front windows because I’m feeling so fucking festive!

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