It rained trees for five days
covered in ice shiny like
I kept thinking how good it
was to find you, as we
walked through nature’s natural
destruction it seemed funny
that neither of us were
Every year I buy a christmas tree,
I light the candles on
but most days
I pray to the saints on my altar.
Marking x’s and refilling water
glasses, leaving cigars, and
lighting fire to incense
There is no place here for me.
For where my heart really lives.
I buy 7 day candles on
Amazon, while people hang
wreaths, I make my own holy
water from the rain, I say silent
whisperings to the dead, and I
feel each one of them on my
walks, while I sleep, in my
dreams. I miss florida water,
and floor wash. I miss cornmeal.
I miss hot, and secrets…
But every year, I do buy a Christmas
Tree, right after I light the menorah,
I like the lights. All of them, and I know
that someday I will go home.
I like the lights….all of them.
I believe in them.
"Funny how shit come together sometimes [ya dig]
One moment you frequent the booty clubs &
the next four years you & somebody’s daughter
raisin’ y’all own young’n now that’s a beautiful thang
that’s if you’re on top of your game” Outkast
I am staring at ice, everywhere…prediction more to fall from the sky later …my yard looks like summer forgotten, never took the grill in, tiki torch still center in table once surrounded with friends, my yard chairs scattered and full of frozen white…and I can’t get this Outkast quote outta my mind…
Funny story, it’s the truth… I was, we were, two souls once on barstools, cash in our pockets, time to spare, we slept on your blow up mattress in the 9th ward in New Orleans, I only wore short skirts, and we drank wild turkey like it was water, and our love was fresh, and hot, and new like every day was unplanned…
…and now we are here, two kids, christmas tree, presents hidden in closets, dog, cat, car, jobs, bed, house…we work hard to keep it together, combating a 17 year olds delirium, and the sober truths of our middle schooler…. sometimes I think I, we our way out of our league…
I was a good barfly. We were good barflys together. Easy, cool, Al Green on the jukebox… If only raising kids was that easy…as easy as love was back then…is it possible that they see through all the stuff, all the day to day, all the parenting, and working, and family life…and just see us as we were? I love them, but sometimes I miss us…
I fight the urge to day drink. I don’t think it’s a bad urge, it’s just not in the cards. Not with shopping, and cleaning, and wrapping, and washing, and groceries, and ice… ice predicted to fall from the sky and wrap itself around the trees like we were wrapped around each other when this whole thing started….no regrets, just truths…
"Funny how shit come together sometimes [ya dig]”
But there are really no technicalities in life only destiny in piece meal…
today my destiny was to spend six hours trying to fix the plumbing of my kitchen sink with Kevin. Both of us kneeling, squatting, lying on the kitchen floor trying to fit weird elbows of PVC piping into other weird elbows of PVC piping while trying not to become aggravated. In the end we “fixed” the last leak with a bicycle tire tube cut and pulled over the last remaining irritant…I have no idea how long this will last. Much like time, it is a ticking bomb kind of situation, and I am struck by how much time has passed. In two days my youngest son will be done with elementary school only to enter the horrors of middle school….and I will be there to see this…
…but technically I shouldn’t be alive. For so many reasons I can’t impart why all at once, just a glimpse at a time…
I had a dream in New Orleans the first time I went to visit. The kind of dream, that is not a dream, but a waking sleep. Where the things that happen are more real than most days can be. I can’t remember what lead up to it, or more exactly where I was before I passed out. I know that wherever I had been involved many drinks, and who knows what else. That I had ended up crying, one of those long dark drunken cries where you just let your soul come out of your tear ducts and into the hands of whoever is closest. I remember that. Then darkness. Then sleep. Then the door bell rang. Standing outside was a local I had met recently in his big warehouse apartment. His big round flamboyantness had stuck with me, and I had decided by his delightful evilness that he must be a vampire. He was there at the door, dressed for a funeral in a big red hat with black fringe covering his face, and two others dressed identical who I couldn’t place. I didn’t want to open the door. I quickly found myself on a train with a group of women all tittering and tattering on, I sat smoking, and trying to make sense as they told me that my time was not done. That I had much more to do. I listened. I feel like I protested. Then I found myself hovering above myself. I could see myself sleeping on the bed below me, my body all stretched out in the middle of the mattress. I decided, or they decided, or something decided that I was coming back down. Fast fast fast my self plummeted down towards my sleeping self, and what I remember most is the feeling of my ghost crashing like a ton of bricks back into my body. When I woke up my bones hurt. I can’t explain it, or explain it away either. I remember I drank a huge glass of milk for breakfast, and peeled shrimp. It was the best breakfast I ever had.