Rambling now past the edges.
Loose grass, mud in the air I can smell it so I know it is there.
S----- I remembered drinking and smoking in the narrow space of the fire escape, and felt unbearably sad that it was gone. But remembered, remembering, I had it all and -- believe it or not -- that helped.
"When are we going to build our empire?"
Every day now. At varying amplitudes, different heights. Spring comes and the ceiling is lifted. Sometimes I am allowed back to places that are eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeed off the planet, fatal combination of time and time and time and time...
In some shadows, mud. I saw evil on the wall of a bungalow -- how weird is that? I must have been high, sure, I was, I was tripping balls too but I mean: evil? Last night in a dream A-- said, just to piss off my grandmother, "God has AIDS." And I said, "I mean, sure... only He doesn't *have* it, He *is* AIDS and the mud I keep mentioning and the mentioning and what isn't mentioned and your hair that I coughed up after I went down on you and the whole nine yards and seven years since we were out there," I'm talking to you now, under sky I can almost smell though the fire escape and the cigarettes and the shadows you stood in as you drank the whiskey and the whiskey too are all gone to God now. God of body attacking itself. God of time. I remember, and remembering, close the gaps between Him and me, me and you, and bear everything.