Three Glasses

Raging running, wreaking havoc, pelicans protruding progress on parallel parallelograms, grunting, running, ramming their rouccous rammifications of whatever it is you seek this day my friend because I, sir, am your servant, in the eyes of the lord, whatever it is you seek, I am here for you, unless you leave. Scratch scratch, she scratched her head wondering “maybe I should change my shampoo because this itching is either my scalp dislike this shampoo or I have cancer….” the big C….cancer. According to statistics and Joe Jackson everyone gets cancer. well, not THIS one. Not yet anyway. But the sun is strong in the tropics and my stream of consciousness may keep me sane, but the big C is always around the “little c” corner. What to do? they said I’d always amount to something. I was a contender, couldda knocked it outta da park. But then reality set in, and distraction. WAVES. The bigger the better, ya, I’m still talkin’ about waves, but you might have thought I was being crude. Ya, I’ve seen and had them big, but they never tell you that it’s like a glove. Too big is just TOO big. Why don’t you try to eat an entire loaf of bread in one gulp. I’m telling you it’s just about choking. That’s not pleasant no matter how good the bread.

So my mother tells me almost nothing. Basically it’s like she’s mute. I might as well learn sign languange, but then, with our history she will likely go blind the moment I can communicate a sentient idea. Oi vey. I’m not Jewish, but sometimes I think I was in another life, or meant to be in this one. How do you explain the love of pastrami? And the suffering? Ya, “that’s life” they say. Well, they’re right, but they forget to mention all the beauty in between the bouts of suffering. Ya, well, how ‘bout that then? What does it all mean. Am I insane to think that there is a purpose greater than us all….man my head moves way faster than my fingers on this keyboard. And by head, I don’t mean that I mean to give it, but that my brain is frighteningly quick in it’s stream of consciousness. Where does it all go? Youth beauty, resilience – I watched a young kid playing on the beach – running and playing with a soccer ball – he had legs like elastics, like Gumby, and I remembered what it felt like to be so limber. “Youth is wasted on the young” – a statement I always responded to with complete disdain and now I understand it. Age. Inevitable. Irrepressible. Ignitable? Definitely irrequitable. However, also inevitable and embraceable.

The grey hair starts very subtly. You don’t even see them especially when you have the sun-kissed blond hair of a surfer “girl”. Unfurl. In the curl. Curt. oh, I can’t possibly write the next word in the sequence. god help us all. And he does. May you be struck dead if I am wrong. Lightning. It hurts when it travels through your arm, down into your body, out your arm and down your core, into your legs and out your feet into the thankfully wet ground….leaving no burn marks…could it be a miracle. how could this be? Miraculous? or just damn lucky. You decide. Again, was consciousness altered maybe some neurons fried and others welded in a way that only divinity could?

Never mind. It’s all just a crap shoot anyway.



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