All in all, this Sunday kind of sucked

So power was shut down this morning up until mid-afternoon, and water followed suit after noon. Some maintenance crap down the street, something like that.

Had nothing special to do, not really, so I slipped on some sneakers and went to see that god-awful Transformers movie: Knowing from the get-go it´d probably suck anyhow, but expecting to see some cool shots of F-22s in action-- which never really happened.

All in all, this Sunday kind of sucked...


It´s so much fun playing around with words (a poem)

Sometimes I dream of warm Summer nights spent
outdoors among shrubberies sparse and thin, tall
trees bare of fruit feeding the fire at our feet with a
dried-out windfall of dead bark and bough and leaf
and twig.

Yet the fire cracks still at our feet in this dream and
its din is like the gentle snoring of a bearded wise
giant sleeplessly knitting throughout Creation with
needles silver though complexion like dusty

Up I step to yell at the old man,
“Dontcha yield old man Father Time let it rip,”
then watch him wake to swing his scythe sideways
from East to West, horizon to proximity,
shoreline to sky, and I see all the weekends from a
childhood idyllic merged over those later straycat
blackhole years inevitably misspent in College:

Everything boiled down to a past only half-forgotten
but mostly rendered in rags apocryphal.

Then just before the sand ebbs away washed from
eyes shut tight I find myself a lone castaway on the
left banks of night´s beach under this Southern Cross
of ours, seeing you coast by to righter shores safely tucked
beneath Winter´s gray coat just like sails set high bridging
this great divide-- and us half a continent asunder.


The Purge (a haiku)

Tonight undressing
all the chaos off my life,
from shoreline to sky.


Still life, with an M-16

The other night I dreamed I was at the park, at this large open field surrounded by tall trees. It was a sunny Spring morning and I was utterly alone.
I had an M-16 rifle with me, god knows why, and I was practicing shooting at this range of trees closing in around the grassy heath in the distance. "Y´know, this is so cool," I´d say upon every round I´d fire.

When I woke up, I logged online and started looking up old mid-1980s Vigilante comics for sale.