Saturday, November 14, 2015

Tarrytown, Austin, 2015

Here's what drives me nuts: I used to walk around with lines constantly coming into my head from the ether and could later turn them into a full-fledged poem. Now, though, every now and then something will come to me and I'll do something half-assedly clever with it... but not profound. I used to be able to see intellectual seeds through to germination; now...ha!

That said, here's a sad example of an idea I was really interested in: Back in June of this year, I'd spent the night with someone I once had a crush on back in the '80s, and was re-in-love-with via the Internet (with occasional meetings) since 2008 or so. Our "time together" went stupidly, despite what I felt ahead of time was a deep connection. Here's the haphazard poem that I was not able to flesh out to its full potential:

Her wrist rests on mine, just for a sec
Later I wash/wish her back

We hold hands briefly on a black listless street
where a judge will later be shot

A swish, a flick
of the wrist --
all gone.

OK: "Later I wash/wish her back" is fucking brilliant! :)  In the Olden Tymes I could have built something around that. Today, I am obviously creatively incapable of doing so! Aside from my time with my love interest back in June, I was also interested in the fact that a federal judge was just weeks ago shot in the same neighborhood where we were walking my friend's dog out in the dark. It's a rich neighborhood, but with hardly any streetlights. Conducive to grabbing hands for support in the dark, I suppose, but also, if you were so inclined, to hiding out and shooting someone when they pulled up in their driveway.

You see? There are billions of things going on here, but I was only able to distill "Later I wash/wish her back." I have lost the mental capacity for taking the idea further than that.

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