it hurts too much to pity her,
like she wouldn't know the difference
like bringing up therapy
then watching her start talking,
then still talking
confused by glee,
running from the colloquialisms
of an American cashier
i imagine her being a stock broker
working at the perfume counter
battling over commissions with coworkers
i hear her sigh when she's pressed to think
bout anything more than being an adjunct queen
like she'll start biting her nails
in front of the tv screen
like she wouldn't know the difference
like bringing up therapy
then watching her start talking,
then still talking
confused by glee,
running from the colloquialisms
of an American cashier
i imagine her being a stock broker
working at the perfume counter
battling over commissions with coworkers
i hear her sigh when she's pressed to think
bout anything more than being an adjunct queen
like she'll start biting her nails
in front of the tv screen
Had a dream I was with a group of various family members in a car, some have passed on. I noticed we couldn't fit in the car as we were all inside. It was a small European or South American street—I imagine—or village, where many people were walking around. The police told us we all had to get out and stand back with all the others. Apparently, something was going down. I was very frustated and annoyed because I was late for work, and I went around a group of people to argue with the police, when we all realized war was about to break out.
They sent everyone into a small decrepit warehouse with old wooden tables, while they guarded the street. Through some windows I could see the African insurgents approaching, maybe Somalians, some teenagers and kids. Don't ask me why they were African kids.
In one alley there were three young African insurgents near a couple subarban trash cans with AK-47s. A shoot-out ensued with them vs. the police in front of our shady warehouse, and in two shots, I saw one policeman take out the tallest boy in front of the trash. It was the first time I'd seen someone shot. The sound he made as the first bullet hit his chest then dropped dead. They took out that small group. To the right, a crowd of insurgents were approaching from the street, but all of a sudden a helicopter approached and dropped low, and took out that crowd, then made some real nimble manuevers within the buildings and street, and I was impressed. Then the helicopter was swerving and spinning too erratically, like an out of control ice-skater, and I heard someone say, You gotta be kidding me! and the helicopter crashed into our warehouse.
Things started falling from the ceiling and I didn't know if I should get under those tables.
After a while, we heard the gunshots cease, and things appeared to calm down. I was lying on my side, next to the table with my arm supporting my head like I was lounging, and there was a security guard who's not a cop, like for a department store in a ghetto part of town. He was sitting near me with his arms across his knees and he tossed a grenade to his female partner, who was standing over him, like he was ashamed. She tossed it back but he didn't reach for it, and it came to me.
I picked it up, but didn't know if it had its pin. I was fearful and anxious, and I went outside to the crowd of police to show them. I didn't know if it was going to blow, I thought they could handle it. Someone came up to examine it and took out a paperclip and started unfolding it.
What should I do? I beseeched the crowd, as they seemed to be shrinking back.
They go, Throw it!
What? Where? Over there? There might be people there!
They start counting down from ten, as if to warn me.
As they get to five, I start remembering dreams in which I'm anxious about throwing a ball or my arms or legs going out when in a physical altercation.
5...
4...
3...At 3, the grenade falls out of my hands, and I look at it and quickly look back and wait for impact.
2,
1!
I open my eyes and kind of smile. Then sigh. What the fuck!
My baby's name is Baby Babe
She takes the morning train,
She works from night to day,
She takes the morning train,
To find me awaitin
I cooks the morning ham
I toil scramblin her eggs,
I use my secret ways
and garnish and garnsih
Cause my baby's coming home again,
She takes the morning train,
She works from night to day
She takes the morning train
To find me awaitin for her!
Babe, does your mom have credit? ...Oh, just asking. (thoughtful, moments later) Does she need it? ...Jeez, I'm just asking...How bout life insurance? ...Okay, okay. It's just that this guy told me he could—... Oh, it doesn't matter... So what if it was Rocco? ...that is his real name... it is, it was given to him by his mother... because she loves him! Look he knows what he's talking about. He's a real straight-shooter... It's just that he did Po'boy's mom's—... Well, I'm not sure. It could be his real name... Well, he arranged papers for her, and now she lives comfortably in South American... I don't know, somewhere in the mountains... Don't worry, it's regionous... the mountains... Well, she can't be running around in the cities and town centers... Okay, fine. Just thought she could use a little extra money—and you always wanted that convertible, your hair blowing in the wind while I drive... No, women aren't allowed to drive in this country... Look, I don't want to argue with you—I'm too stuffed to make love... No, I hust had a large slab of prime rib, but I could go for a slice of pork cobbler... No, you're my pork cobbler... No, you're my pork cobbler
Jeez, babe, that crazy Lexus was about to hit us, and on your side, too. You're lucky, cause I traded in your airbags for a bunch of pork loins and a big hunk of prime rib from a guy that was selling them from a freezer in his truck...he didn't rip me off...No, I didn't get ripped off...he gave me a good deal—you know I don't get you, we have breakfast, lunch, dinner, and dessert for the next two weeks
We're on the road again
Oh, don't get mad, babe. She's probably just honking cause she's a fan.
- Hey Sanjay. This is my babe. Sanjay, Babe, Babe, Sanjay.
- Hey Sanjay. This is my babe. Sanjay, Babe, Babe, Sanjay.
- What's her name?
- What are you, playing the hero? You getting smart? Trying to hit on my woman? (pow! bang! zorp! blamo!). Our work here is done, babe....babe?
- (babe, filing her nails). The wind tried to hit on me.
- Oh, yea? (festering) What did it say, exactly?
- I dunno, different positions, things like that.
- Oh, yea? (bubbling)
I feel like I'm holding my dogs captive. I never walk them. She sits by the door, stares into the dark night in the backyard. She likes it when I pet her, when she eats, or we wrestle. She sleeps a lot.
Everyday she knows the mailman's going to try to break in, and she expects him. I don't know about you, but that would drive me crazy.
What a sad, pathetic existence, to only think about one thing.
black seals
I can't recall any bad dreams lately. Most are pleasant, or soothing, or even exhilarating. In some, we're back together, and seemingly happy, or communicating in person, but there's an optimistic overture to it—those usually leave me pretty depressed in the morning and loath to start my day. But that I can also ascribe to lack of adequate rest. Whatever it is, it evetually clears away as I start moving and get caught up with work. Sometimes I'll play with it throughout my day, and imagine her with me while I'm driving around, showing her places I go, and what we'd talk about, and the laughs we'd have whenever I have a funny thought in my head about another driver or person I encounter or observe. Ask her for advice on some issues. And when I have lunch and see a couple there, too, I would wonder, well, would we get separate drinks, or just share one big one? Work keeps me distracted, and that's good, but as soon as I'm done I tend to forget about it, and get restless. It's hard to be ambitious when there's this underlying hopelessness, a resignation to the futility of trying too hard. But the more mentally depressed I get, or pessimisstic toward my willingness to grow, the sweeter the dreams.
Except I had a dream that the game barely started and Bayern had already scored in Madrid through a header. Then later in the dream, I felt relief that that was just a dream and I looked at the scoreboard and it's 1 - 2 first half in the Bernabeu in favor of Bayern. Great, two away goals.
me and the bear and my babe
in the woods
they start to argue
i gotta step in
i try to reason
i try my will
bear eats my babe
i kicks him his shin
me and the bear and my babe
in the woods
she tries to teach him
he plops her again
i try to hold him
we drink some wine
me and the bear and my babe
are in love
i wake to find
that they are both gone
bear ate my babe
for the very last time
O! Bear, O! Bear, What have you done?
What have you done?
What have you done?
O! Bear, O! Bear, What have you done?
What have you done?
with that babe of mine?
Bear starts to dance
The bear is still drunk
What have you done?
What have you done?
O! Bear, O! Bear, What have you done?
What have you done?
with that babe of mine?
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