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3/30/02-I found myself downtown in darkness except for dim street and shop lights at times with another or two others at times without companions in the steady rain there are food hawkers out in one area with sights and smells of rich delicious victuals in preparation with greasy cooked and spicy vegetables and strips of hot chicken and other meats sizzling the smoke billowing up despite the downpour I walked on intrigued by all the vittles but in search of something else farther on where the way was darker almost completely without light and I was at length absolutely alone though I did not find what I had sought and retraced my steps really hungry now and cold eager for a hot supper yet when I returned all the stands and food stalls were gone the street almost deserted I found an old woman and asked about the vendors and she pointed me toward a basement entrance hard to find two blocks over good luck she'd said it's easy to miss I moved off in this new direction uncertain of the outcome a great loneliness and sense of unease overwhelmed me as I traversed another darkened distance later lying on my back too tired to rise almost floating free the body so frail and heavy in a jungle so humid it was steaming a hated enemy though fellow countryman appears quickly with enraged thrust I pierce his abdomen with my bayonet leaving him heaped in the thick foliage ever so painfully to die...
3/27/02-A small energetic dog named spice a normally mild-mannered jack russell terrier calmly watching from the high porch for intruders into it's master's domain when out of the woods a pair of donkeys appeared walking into the cabin's clearing and she commenced to scream out her outrage and fear so fierce her frenzy and alarm larry thought for sure some terrible accident had befallen her that she must be near to death prepared for grief concern turned quickly to relief then laughter the wayward monsters were soon on their way and spice reluctantly restored to her normally pacific ways until another day a huge rattler appeared and yet again a roving emu disturbed her watch...
3/23/02-Exploring a large house alone others out or asleep except for one tall youth a stranger who like me seems at loose ends whom I notice at times here and there about though we do not feel the need to formally introduce ourselves I realize after taking in several halls and rooms spacious well lit or naturally bright upstairs and ready to head down impression also that sandy is there nice to look at pleasing personality that I need to go to the restroom wondering where in this place I'd seen it then recalling around the corner on the first floor there's one head for the stairwell long banister start to hold it but feet go too far and fast racing down the long set of steps too quickly for shoes to touch each one I must be falling I think and yet am too controlled and not rapidly enough descending for that rather I am floating down or flying how appropriate I think this must be why they call it a flight of stairs...
3/20/02-Kim and randolph their minds still with us their bodies frail and thinned like clothes washed so many times they're sheer and faded the slightest tug or whip in the wind likely to cause severe tearing yet I remember them hearty and robust vim and vinegar filled with attitude strong vital proud dominant now to squeeze her deformed hand ever so slightly in greeting causes extreme pain his knees and back hurt constantly one fall might topple either one of them into a gaping six-foot hole their skin so drawn and taut over prominent skeletal landscapes it seems a halloween semblance of their younger selves...
3/13/02-Floating downstream there's a roar round a sharp bend and we come to an unexpected dam with falls frantically paddle for the nearest shore but do not reach it the current strong and hurling us on we leap out swimming with all strength find a slow water eddy and get out safely but looking back see the canoe end over ending in white water then shooting fast downriver with broken bottom slowly sinking ricky and I diving in the rapids for tackle box and keys plastic wrapped picnic lunch binoculars wallets shoes outer clothing he had more stamina and sheer crazy will and kept methodically doggedly diving for hours long after I was spent and thought it fruitless though far downstream I'd collected separately the wounded craft and one of the paddles out of that turbulence he finally pulled up from ten or fifteen feet the tackle box where we'd put our essential pocket stuff and keys enough for getting home after a long portage to a dirt road leaving me with the banged up boat while he hiked the rest of the way for his car waiting at the takeout then coming back we tied on the vessel wondering if it could be saved and in stony silence headed back to town quietly shared a couple beers Mimi Farina records games of chess and never spoke of the moment just before the river's turn when he'd suggestively stripped down to a bikini swimsuit leered and asked to be rubbed down all over with suntan lotion and I had bristled refused accused him of being queer years later I'd wished to have replayed the incident but dealt with my own homophobia ignored the provocation with a smile lightly spread the liquid just on his back - and kept a friend...
3/11/02-Alone looking at crowds of people tourists or idle local thugs in a major open area of quebec city milling strolling about some walking rapidly some slowly one young man and another get into an argument and then quickly fly at each other with bare fists one clearly being badly beaten the other continues to land blows the first falls and now is stomped kicked viciously repeatedly a policeman casually comes in no hurry at length the winner of the pugilists goes on his way unchallenged his victim terribly injured left for dead the gendarme calls for an ambulance many had gathered to watch the fight but none stepped in to stop it sunny cool windy on the boardwalk overlooking the saint lawrence pigeons and seagulls the waters black with pollution oil from passing ships and tugs waiting for my train dandelions blanketing all the tiny yards in yellow...
3/10/02-On a warm bright sunny afternoon there is a deep creek about twenty yards wide with no easy way to climb in so I run across up and down a grassy area adjoining the stream not exactly a bank as it is more like a roof with sod and sloping in an upside down v shape and leap in but while still in the air feeling the exciting falling sensation before a splashy impact too late with a sinking feeling I realize I forgot to take off my pants and that my wallet money and keys are still in the pockets I figure there's a slight chance if I quickly get out again or at least throw the contents of my pockets back on the roof-bank there may not be too much damage as I reach down to get out my wallet though I discover I'm only in my underwear oh good I think yet where are my pants and how long have I been going around without them...
3/9/02-Working my way up the berkeley hills one evening after dark images of hoary headed middle-aged mama dancing in my head no matter how often I kill her the beastly ghost visage rears up again till I finally dig her a deep hole thoroughly smash in her head with my shovel next snap her spine shove her in and cover her over with fresh dirt then roll a huge grave stone atop the mound as I was leaving for california she moved in for an intimate embrace her eyes wild teeth yellowed in receding gums crows feet planted all over her face her hair thinning the skull's shape barely concealed in the sheer pulled-over stocking of dry and diseased skin her grizzly skeletal frame as apparent as on holocaust victims or those left unburied in cambodia's killing fields my dog's licking her nether regions again...
3/8/02-Walking in the neighborhood near dusk on a bright clear warm day I encounter someone walking on a cross street at a ninety degree angle to my own path who has tethered with a complicated set of halters and leashes a whole group of small to medium dogs maybe a dozen or more unusually they seem undisturbed by my approach continuing on their way amazing that they do not get their leather traces all tangled another canine terribly tiny walked by someone else is on a leash as well a little behind the others and eager to catch up clumsy puppy falling half the time but undaunted full of energy then I'm looking at a suburb as if through a microscope with tiny similar houses row on row toy cars and iddy-biddy people huge transparent paramecia and rotifers floating like blimps in the almost white sky with superb motility looming rolling extending contracting just as seen at five hundred power with the greatest of ease they swiftly snatch suck up and ingest the little people specks one by one...
3/6/02-Drinking deeply of life and of cheap wine shared with tonya at night on the beach in san francisco the wind blowing hard and cold off the surf still not warm in our sand dusted big heavy coats impelling body heat closeness talking intimately spouting spontaneous poetry and exchanging wit poking fun at wisdom our pelvises inches apart as if of their own accord like opposite magnet poles are drawn together till locked the hollow in the dunes cool and moist alone at the end of a long pier looking out into the darkness imagining being in those bleak depths barely resisting the urge to hurl myself off into the heaving winter waves intensely staring the ocean's roar all 'round at last toward morning turning thoroughly chilled and walking the several miles back to my little basement room taking a bottle of strong pills swallowing them by the handful washed down with tap water why not I yell between each mouthful till all were gone then settle down in bed to complete the note the life and death of phil wagner I carefully print across the top of the tablet page my heart racing my vision already playing tricks I continue writing...
3/4/02-Just write what harm can it do altruistic pandering when I worked as an intern at a state mental hospital jesus christ is coming the man calling himself john the baptist said from his locked ward a week later a man calling himself jesus christ was admitted mmm good the taste of sweet pastries sugar I understand is poison in conventional amounts to diabetics not much better for the obese and those with high triglycerides and was introduced to the old world's diets by the indians of the americas almost half our consumed foods indeed for better or worse coming from native new worldians another frigid night a record cold week for central texas this late in the season strictly the weather meant no innuendo implied fran can be quite responsive when I'm so inclined the scream of the espresso coffee machine the dog and I on our morning walk before the sun fully up the ground still so cold that pepper in her sweater was shivering we saw frisky alert herds of deer who leaped and ran away to the dog's great delight my old bones joints slow at anytime early in the mornin' seem particularly frozen on days like this putting into question our plans for a much more northerly retirement homestead just follow your bliss the power of myth joseph campbell said and don't be afraid who also advised we take all of existence the hateful and the blessed as perfect just as it ought to be and is though often most painfully hard to take for me and you he suggests there is nothing but now and here there are no individuals in eternity...
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