Lit blog

[Anschul]

too harsh? NO WAY! thank you, precious man. I needed that.

Jean,
You and I don't interact much, but I read everything you write. You're one of the first people that caught my eye here when I discovered the poetry corner of this deviant little place. And in some measure, you're the reason I'm still here. I am an addict. My addiction (other than the ones to chocolate and my wife) is words, and your words have always lit me up. Keep writing. A lot of what you feel and the way you pitch it out there raw and uncompromised makes a lot of people feel good. Including me.
I am a believer in the principles of Tibetan Buddhism, and I believe that wounded souls have a way of finding each other and applying balm (I think Shakespeare called it "Misery loves company"--same thing). Stick with us. When it feels like all the shit in the world is piling up on us (and it does feel that way, often), remember that there are people here that love you. Including me.
Anschul

 

[Homburg]

Hey Jean,
I hope that someday you'll put your beachfront AV back up. Once I get moved to farm country, I'm gonna need all the beach pix I can stand. God, I'm starting to miss the beach already, and I'm not leaving for six more weeks.

WAH

I spent much of yesterday on the beach. Very weird for me, as I don't particularly like spending lots of time on the beach. Which is probably also weird given where I live.

Regardless, it was important that I spend time on th ebeach. Very much so, and I am glad that I did, regardless of how little the beach itself matters to me. That beach mattered, on that day, because of how much it mattered to the person I was with.

And I would love to walk out onto that beach again right now...

 

[normal jean]

..............

 

[UnderYourSpell]

I will put it back up right now. I have a similar one I use as my desktop background, with people in the distance, fishing...you can see the dunes

And Homburg? Sometimes I go to the beach just to cleanse my soul. I know this sounds really weird, but I think I would suffocate if I had to live in a landlocked state.

hope you both get there soon and have a blast

That's what I once said Jean that I would never live away from the sea but I couldn't be more landlocked than I am now I guess you go where life takes you and I am glad it took me here for it's here I learnt to live and finally be me

 

[Homburg]

And Homburg? Sometimes I go to the beach just to cleanse my soul. I know this sounds really weird, but I think I would suffocate if I had to live in a landlocked state.

hope you both get there soon and have a blast

Beaches and mountains are both important to me, and for the same reason - immensity. For whatever reason, it is calming to be in the presence of supremely huge grand things that just don't give a toss about what else is scurrying about around them. The mountain does not care for the human ants that scurry on it, and the ocean does not care about the human flotsam that drift at its' boundaries.

It puts me in my place, quiets my ego a bit.

 

[BooMerengue]

I spent much of yesterday on the beach. Very weird for me, as I don't particularly like spending lots of time on the beach. Which is probably also weird given where I live.

Regardless, it was important that I spend time on th ebeach. Very much so, and I am glad that I did, regardless of how little the beach itself matters to me. That beach mattered, on that day, because of how much it mattered to the person I was with.

And I would love to walk out onto that beach again right now...

Forget the crystal waters
I want a beach in Maine
to myself, or nearly
where the water is cold and dark
and the voices of those who
died there whisper in each wave
and the salty smells are so wrapped
in the breath of the piney woods
and shade is so everywhere
that sunlight is a diamond studded gift
I want a beach in Maine.

Angie and ee are nuts.
to leave

 

[Homburg]

Forget the crystal waters
I want a beach in Maine
to myself, or nearly
where the water is cold and dark
and the voices of those who
died there whisper in each wave
and the salty smells are so wrapped
in the breath of the piney woods
and shade is so everywhere
that sunlight is a diamond studded gift
I want a beach in Maine.

Angie and ee are nuts.
to leave

It was my first experience on a beach in New York. Aside from the rampaging Guidos, and the lack of waves, it was much like being on a beach down here. I was a little surprised. After all the horror stories I've heard of NY/NJ beaches, I don' tknow what I was expecting. Remove the cancerous Guido infestation, and it would've been really nice.

Nothing like the stark and almost untouched feel of the more remote places in Hatteras, of course, but really nice compared to what I expected.

----

Wow

what you just wrote is a poem in itself, waiting to be written, or perhaps, just as it is. Very Whitman-esque.

Thanks for sharing your soul.



NJ

That really does have the makings of a poem.

Thank you both

I wasn't intending anything of the sort. It is just that I am copiously aware of the size of my ego, and likewise aware of the things that quiet it.

Not sure about the comparison to Whitman though.

 

[BooMerengue]

That last post could become something methinks if I let it grow up.

Sit down here Anschul, and I'll tell you a tale.
*pats the sand beside her and throws another branch on the fire, glancing at the growing waves.

Once upon a time, in Aug of '69, I gave birth to a gorgeous little blondy haired blueeyed little teeny girl. I loved her all I could, and knit her a sweater set, and made her some ceramic Giraffes so she would know it was always ok to stick your neck out, and 4 days later I waited in the car while she was placed in a Foster Home. I was silent but my heart was forever cracked.

For seven years I was silent, (as far as not sharing much more than my name and my ass) but rowdy, doing everything possible to chase away the guilt and shame of what I had done, buckling under my parents wishes. But I was unaware at the time of any options and the Social worker made sure I never found out about them. (I found out yrs later that that same SW was indicted for the illegal and unauthorized sterilization of many retarded adults who passed through her care. Karma is alive and well.)

Anyway- I left home hitch hiking and didn't stay more than a few months anywhere. And have a zillion stories from those lost days which ended in Tupelo in Aug of '76 when I again gave birth to a hazel eyed sunny brownhaired teeny girl. Tadaaa! I was 26 and on my own and the family (who immediately informed me I was unfit to raise a child) could go take a flying fuck.

We'll call the oldest Claire for I named her after my imaginary friend/sister who passed at 2 weeks- her parents changed her name to a more popular one- and the youngest is BR which I still call her. Or Fred. Don't ask. They are 6 yrs and 361 days apart. And I wasted no time during that time drugging, drinking, and otherwise carousing. Neither of the fathers are important to the story, having performed their only job I had for them.

When BR was born I decided to write to the adopting agency I had used for Claire and make my presence known. They were kind, and opened a file for any and all mail I wanted Claire to have. I sent B'day cards and letters. For a long time. 12 years.

One day in Maryland I walked out to meet the mailman and he handed me a letter from the same agency. It seemed Claire wanted to meet her birth mother. I was over the top, and so was BR. This was in 88. She was in a rehab in Westchester and one of the goals of her therapy was to confront her demons. So I went and was immediately shocked. She was/is my identicle twin. Even in voice and walk and gestures. Even BR was shocked and a bit put out. But I quickly reassured her and all was well. I had brought pictures of my family and some heirloomy type of gifts for her. We corresponded and telephoned for a couple years but I could tell her interest had faded. She had graduated from rehab and was now on her own rebuilding her life. And all she ever talked about was money, and the expensive things she bought and the wealthy guys she dated, one of which she married.
Thats when the waters began to clear.

From the address on the original papers she had received she figured I came from money. I did, but it wasn't my money, and I wasn't interested in that lifestyle. Never have been. She came to visit once and was sort of awestruck. The house was built in 1776 and was completely restored to that period. 8 bedrooms, 7 fireplaces etc.in a bedroom community of New York. But I didn't live there; it was my folks place. (They came around and accepted BR when we visited when she was 16 mos old.) I lived in a townhouse in MD.

She wasn't interested in a sister. Her parents had also adopted another girl and a boy- he was of mixed race and uncomfortable where he was raised, and had left home asap at 18. A month after she told me this her adopted sister was killed in a car wreck. But her words had hurt BR and as far as BR was concerned she no longer knew Claire. And still doesn't.

She sent me a list of things she wanted for wedding gifts. Pricey stuff. She had invited us to the wedding but then backtracked. Said it would be too confusing. I really didn't care, but she was sealing her fate. I told her I don't send gifts to weddings I'm not allowed to go to, so she thought well maybe a bank account started would be nice. I laughed; she laughed, and we haven't been back in touch since then. That was 89.

I still regret giving her up. She had an unhappy homelife- I know I could have done better for her. But I don't hurt over it anymore. But there was nothing she wanted from me that I could give her.

You know, you do what you can, and hope for the best. But as my Mom always said, "You'd better be prepared for the worst!"

I was.

Thats my story and I'm sticking to it.

Hand me that branch, would ya? I'm getting chilly.

Mmmmmm.... Smell that salty piney air? I love it.

 

[Angeline]

That last post could become something methinks if I let it grow up.

Sit down here Anschul, and I'll tell you a tale.
*pats the sand beside her and throws another branch on the fire, glancing at the growing waves.

Once upon a time, in Aug of '69, I gave birth to a gorgeous little blondy haired blueeyed little teeny girl. I loved her all I could, and knit her a sweater set, and made her some ceramic Giraffes so she would know it was always ok to stick your neck out, and 4 days later I waited in the car while she was placed in a Foster Home. I was silent but my heart was forever cracked.

For seven years I was silent, but rowdy, doing everything possible to chase away the guilt and shame of what I had done, buckling under my parents wishes. But I was unaware at the time of any options and the Social worker made sure I never found out about them. (I found out yrs later that that same SW was indicted for the illegal and unauthorized sterilization of many retarded adults who passed through her care. Karma is alive and well.

Anyway- I left home hitch hiking and didn't stay more than a few months anywhere. And have a zillion stories from those lost days which ended in Tupelo in Aug of '76 when I again gave birth to a hazel eyed sunny brownhaired teeny girl. Tadaaa! I was 26 and on my own and the family (who immediately informed me I was unfit to raise a child) could go take a flying fuck.

We'll call the oldest Claire for I named her after my imaginary friend/sister who passed at 2 weeks and the youngest is BR which I still call her. Or Fred. Don't ask. They are 6 yrs and 361 days apart. And I wasted no time during that time drugging, drinking, and otherwise carousing. Neither of the fathers are important to the story, having performed their only job I had for them.

When BR was born I decided to write to the adopting agency I had used for Claire and make my presence known. They were kind, and opened a file for any and all mail I wanted Claire to have. I sent B'day cards and letters. For a long time. 12 years.

One day in Maryland I walked out to meet the mailman and he handed me a letter from the same agency. It seemed Claire wanted to meet her Mom. I was over the top, and so was BR. This was in 88. She was in a rehab in Westchester and one of the goals of her therapy was to confront her demons. So I went and was immediately shocked. She was/is my identicle twin. Even in voice and walk and gestures. Even BR was shocked and a bit put out. But I quickly reassured and all was well. I had brought pictures of my family and some heirloomy type of gifts for her. We corresponded and telephoned for a couple years but I could tell her interest had faded. She had graduated from rehab and was now on her own rebuilding her life. And all she ever talked about was money, and the expensive things she bought and the wealthy guys she dated, one of which she married.
Thats when the waters began to clear.

From the address on the original papers she had received she figured I came from money. I did, but it wasn't my money, and I wasn't interested in that lifestyle. Never have been. She came to visit once and was sort of awestruck. The house was built in 1776 and was completely restored to that period. 8 bedrooms, 7 fireplaces etc. But I didn't live there; it was my folks place. (They came around and accepted BR when we visited when she was 16 mos old.) I lived in a townhouse in MD.

She wasn't interested in a sister. Her parents had also adopted another girl and a boy- he was of mixed race and uncomfortable where he was raised. A month after she told me this her adopted sister was killed in a car wreck. But her words had hurt BR and as far as she was concerned she no longer knew Claire. And still doesn't.

She sent me a list of things she wanted for wedding gifts. Pricey stuff. She had invited us to the wedding but then backtracked. Said it would be too confusing. I really didn't care, but she was sealing her fate. I told her I don't send gifts to weddings I'm not allowed to go to, so she thought well maybe a bank account started would be nice. I laughed; she laughed, and we haven't been back in touch since then. That was 89.

I still regret giving her up. She had an unhappy homelife- I know I could have done better for her. But I don't hurt over it anymore. But there was nothing she wanted from me that I could give her.

You know, you do what you can, and hope for the best. But as my Mom always said, "You'd better be prepared for the worst!"

I was.

Thats my story and I'm sticking to it.

Hand me that branch, would ya? I'm getting chilly.

Mmmmmm.... Smell that salty piney air? I love it.

This is why I'm so glad you're back. You have a unique, articulate voice, you're a great storyteller and I know you well; I know you are always brutally honest, which is what I love best about you.

Carry on.

 

[BooMerengue]

This is why I'm so glad you're back. You have a unique, articulate voice, you're a great storyteller and I know you well; I know you are always brutally honest, which is what I love best about you.

Carry on.

Well, I love you, too, babe, but I still think you're nuts to leave Maine, tho I can pretty much tell why. There ain't no work.

I would only go back if I had enough money to live on guaranteed. When that happens I'll stop in Asheville and get you two. We'll live on an island surrounded by the sea. And write poems and stories all day, and eat fresh fish every night.

 

[Angeline]

Well, I love you, too, babe, but I still think you're nuts to leave Maine, tho I can pretty much tell why. There ain't no work.

I would only go back if I had enough money to live on guaranteed. When that happens I'll stop in Asheville and get you two. We'll live on an island surrounded by the sea. And write poems and stories all day, and eat fresh fish every night.

The cool thing about Maine is that there actually are places still where you can do that. I've had enough of the weeklong blizzards though. And I love the idea of being able to take a short walk from wherever I live and look at mountains. Maybe we can visit each other lol. I will miss the ocean, but it's a fair trade, I think.

 

[Anschul]

I will put it back up right now. I have a similar one I use as my desktop background, with people in the distance, fishing...you can see the dunes

And Homburg? Sometimes I go to the beach just to cleanse my soul. I know this sounds really weird, but I think I would suffocate if I had to live in a landlocked state.

hope you both get there soon and have a blast

Jean, you're a remarkable woman. Who'd a thunk you'd put an AV up just 'cause I asked for it?

But for the record, here's something I wrote for the 30/30, and probably more than anything else I've posted so far, it tells you a lot about me...

Conversation
by Anschul©

These sunrise walks at water's edge will end
Much sooner than originally planned.
This vast, flat ocean has become my friend,
My confidant, as footprints in the sand
Trail behind, witness to thoughts that only
The water, the seagulls, and I can share.
That still, small voice that echoes the lonely
Child inside is safe here, while everywhere
Else it hides, obedient to a fear
Of exposure. But in this peaceful place
Where no one can get close enough to hear,
It shouts, and days are easier to face.
The man has found his daily precious walk.
There must be a place where the boy can talk.

 

[unpredictablebijou]

That last post could become something methinks if I let it grow up.

Sit down here Anschul, and I'll tell you a tale.
*pats the sand beside her and throws another branch on the fire, glancing at the growing waves.

***


Hand me that branch, would ya? I'm getting chilly.

Mmmmmm.... Smell that salty piney air? I love it.

*brings out a thermos of cocoa, makings for s'mores, and an extra blanket.*

People astound me, partly because of the way they bring themselves through the most mind-boggling pain, without letting their hearts grow permanently dark, and then make it through the desert to the other side, coming out all triumphant and beautiful.

I cannot begin to tell you how I admire the way you have moved through that particular desert. I can only say Well done. Well done well done. And Namaste.

bj

 

[Anschul]

That last post could become something methinks if I let it grow up.

Sit down here Anschul, and I'll tell you a tale.
*pats the sand beside her and throws another branch on the fire, glancing at the growing waves.

Rest of story used to be here...saving some space...

Mmmmmm.... Smell that salty piney air? I love it.

Boo, you move me, and I DO feel your pain. I'm SO glad you came back. I tried to find a video of Cassandra Wilson singing "Tupelo Honey," it's so moving it almost hurts, then tried to find Van Morrison doing it (yeah, he's okay too), but all I could find was rip-off copies, and not a single decent recording of it so sit back, imagine a guy with a huge mustache, almost no hair, and a 1968 Rickenbacker 360 acoustic/electric and a 61-year-old drug-ruined voice:

You can take all the tea in china
Put it in a big brown bag for me
Sail right around the seven oceans
Drop it straight into the deep blue sea
Shes as sweet as tupelo honey
Shes an angel of the first degree
Shes as sweet as tupelo honey
Just like honey from the bee

You cant stop us on the road to freedom
You cant keep us cause our eyes can see
Men with insight, men in granite
Knights in armor bent on chivalry
Shes as sweet as tupelo honey
Shes an angel of the first degree
Shes as sweet as tupelo honey
Just like honey from the bee

You cant stop us on the road to freedom
You cant stop us cause our eyes can see
Men with insight, men in granite
Knights in armor intent on chivalry
Shes as sweet as tupelo honey
Shes an angel of the first degree
Shes as sweet as tupelo honey
Just like honey from the bee

You know shes alright
You know shes alright with me
Shes alright, shes alright (shes an angel)

You can take all the tea in china
Put it in a big brown bag for me
Sail it right around the seven oceans
Drop it smack dab in the middle of the deep blue sea
Because shes as sweet as tupelo honey
Shes an angel of the first degree
Shes as sweet as tupelo honey
Just like honey from the bee

Shes as sweet as tupelo honey
Shes an angel of the first degree
Shes as sweet as tupelo honey
Just like the honey, baby, from the bee
Shes my baby, you know shes alright.....

*

*lurks*

*

Come out, Come out, wherever you are...

well, if I ever get around to taking Eve's advice, you know, me going the big D route, I am pretty sure I can move to the family home up there. It's modest but perfect and so many memories.

My Granny passed 3 years ago January, she was 88. Now only my Uncle is left. He's crazier than I am, I will tell you about him someday. There's a poet I like to read who wrote wild stories about his uncle stealing an SS truck then being escorted home during the war. I bet you have read him too. I love his stories. Charles Simic.. the name had slipped my mind for a minute

When I was working hard on submitting my work, I would come across opportunities often for poets to get away to some place or another, usually in the mountains and they would workshop and it always sounded like bliss to me.

Of course, I was teasing about moving in with you guys, it's a silly threat I toss out at people who have been kind to me. Like you feed a stray and it's yours forever, lol.

oh! an incentive for Eve to be there early and oft, a place called Bat Cave near Asheville. 9 but I dont know if that one is really a cave as I never went there, my daddy used to tell me thats where Batman lived.)

Lots of caves I imagine We could conjure Conrad Dimple, wouldnt that be cool ?

well, hubby and I are stepping out on the porch, know what I mean? hugs to you all, and a special one for Annie.





NJ

Hey...I've BEEN to Bat Cave. It's a fascinating one-horse town 22 miles down U.S. 74, going southeast. As you roll through town, all you can see is about two hundred yards of tourist gift shops selling bat stuff. Nothing else there. Seven miles past that is Lake Lure, an amazing star-shaped mountain lake where my cousin has a house. Nothing there either, except the lake, some VERY expensive summer cottages, one restaurant, a general store, and a gas pump at the end of two of the star spokes. I actually flew in there once in a seaplane. Scared the locals (there aren't many, though, mostly rich outta-towners up from Asheville and Atlanta and Greenville and Norfolk who got all their bonnets in a buzz when an airplane landed on their precious lake. Like we came from another planet. But they all came to look at the plane, sho 'nuff. Y'all come back now, heah? (NOT).

 

[BooMerengue]

Ohhh Anschul. You missed the point, maybe. Theres no pain involved w/ that issue anymore. I believe in a Master Plan and I believe in Karma. It was all planned before I got here.

Maybe I have a cold gene that allows me to leave things alone. I feel lots of pain when the 'thing' is going on, but when it's over. It's a sin to worry, you know. I'm not perfect. I have issues NOW that are much more painful than that one and I do feel that pain. But that was long ago and in another life.

But I love that song Tupelo Honey. Van Morrison does it best. So thank you.

Boo

Don't choke

Thanks UYS! As I sit here wondering which comment made her laugh. Feeling a little... you know... silly.

lol

I live to make folks laugh, so again, TY!

 

[Angeline]

Well, again, depends on what sort of party it. If Ange shows up in thigh high boots, a leather corset, and crop in hand, maybe we are intending to scare the locals.

----



Everyone has to start somewhere

Hmmm. Much as I know ee would love to see me parading around in that, I'll save it for my private party with him. I gotta live there after you wild poets leave! And I like to live rather quietly!

But you know if we got enough attendees, I'm sure we could put together some pretty cool entertainment. A poetry slam, a picnic, maybe some music venue--Asheville has a ton of those. If we got the timing right and did it in summer, maybe a trip to sliding rock would be in order.

Of course whatever people want to do together in the privacy of their hotel rooms is totally up to them.

 

[LeBroz]

.
.

I learned a valuable lesson recently. I went to Google and did a search of my name and was most curious about what was up with my name at a site called geocities. Bad move. Once there the site wouldn't let me go unless I agreed to a download, claiming my computer had a virus and their program would fix it. I'm not that stupid! So I ended up doing a Ctrl+Alt+Del to end my internet connection ~ the only thing that worked.

I've never gotten my rules organized but the newest one is ~ Don't go to geocities.

A couple weeks back, as I lamented the horror of the fraud potential in Lieberman/Warner cap and trade legislation, I coined the phrase The Al Gore Enrichment Act. For about a week there were only 3 or 4 references on Google to that phrase. This morning there's about a dozen, including from a couple kooky paranoid sites {you know, the conspiracy for world domination through the UN, Club of Rome, Trilateral Comm., blah, blah, blah}. You coin a phrase and if somebody likes it, the next you know, it's all over the place.

.
.

 

[Senna Jawa]

a song

Maryla Rodowicz sings

Jadą wozy kolorowe + Kolorowe jarmarki.​

 

[normal jean]

.............

 

[Anschul]

NJ, my best to you too. I'm mostly a dog guy, but when I met my beautiful wife, she had two cats, Boris and Natasha (son and mother) and had had them for years. I never liked cats, they made me all squirreley. But this Natasha, a black cat with white socks and a white nose, took to me within hours of meeting her, and she went on to be my second-best friend. She would sit only in MY lap, and lick my hand for hours (AA called her my slut-cat). When she got sick and we had to put her down, it was one of the worst days of my life (and I've had a few). So I'm deeply sorry for you; I know just how you feel, and I know it will pass. But a friend like that never completely passes. There will always be a piece of Nicky lurking around, and you will feel good about it, then.
A

My best friend in the world is gone. He left here Tuesday night and didn't come home for breakfast. Hubby and my girls said he was probably just out exploring, but he always comes home for breakfast. I called and called for him, no luck and yesterday, I went out to check the mail and decided to go across the road and have a look around. There he was, next to the foundation of the home, passed away.

He was only 11. I swear, he would talk to me, his sweet little voice. "Mi-kow" meant water. I still can't believe he is gone. He slept with me, followed me around the house, everywhere I went, he would even watch me pee. There is a huge empty place in my heart now. I knew it would happen someday, so that is why I usually kept him inside, but he loved the garden. He even would lick my toes. I never before had a cat that would lick me. Probably never will again.

Where we used to live, there was no road close by. nothing really, that would endanger him. It hurts so badly, I feel responsible, but I know that I'm not. He was a free spirit that loved me and I am so lucky that I had him for as long as I did.''I will miss my little man. always and forever. My heart aches and I just hope he didn't suffer. He didn't look injured, no visible injuries, no bites, or wounds that I could see.

When I saw his body, I knew he was gone, it was just his earthly shell. It hurt, but not in the way I thought it would. I buried him beneath a dogwood tree.

Goodbye Nicky, I will always love you, Little Man.

 

[normal jean]

..................

 

[UnderYourSpell]

As far as i have been able I have shown the surviving animals the one that is gone ... I hope that doesn't sound too ghoolish .. but then they don't search they know they have gone. When my exes father died both is wife and I saw him in the house and later on a dog who had never known him saw him too. So if that makes me crazy so be it because I swear the house I am in now is haunted but not in scary way except making me jump occassionally by looking into the computer room at night. I just say don't do that I don't like it and it goes out again!

 

[normal jean]

....................

 

[unpredictablebijou]

Of the dogs we have lost on the farm, it has always seemed like the other animals deal a little better when they have seen and understood the death; they do seem to know that 'something' is missing from the body, and they seem to be a bit less disconcerted.

However, either way, animals seem to process grief much better than people, and your other furries will come to peace with it. They are also able to see the 'shades' of the animals who leave more easily than we do, and that seems to help.

Once the smell of their companion has faded, they'll understand, and be peaceful about it. Sad that humans have to take longer. I know you're still moving through grief, and I'm still lighting little candles for you, in my way.

blessings,
bj

 

[WickedEve]

I had a dream. My ex came to my house looking for a book -- not sure of the title. He was no longer gaunt, like when he died. He told me that he was spending all his money on paradise -- for his widow. "But she still won't have sex with me." It was just like him to waste his money. Then he told me that he lived in his car that he kept parked in his parents' driveway. He had to push it to work -- a job where he wasn't really doing what he wanted to do: rat research. He was always dreaming big. Then there came a flood and, for a moment, I thought about sex. He kissed me; I worried about herpes. It was best that he left before I woke.

My anxiety wears a dead ex's skin, and Hugo makes me anxious.

I saw a snake skin, hanging from a wetland tree. It was all tail and head, draped over a limb. "Where's the snake?" We checked the tree, looking higher, worrying that something would fall down around the back of our necks. For so many years there were slither dreams -- before the dead-man ones. I got so close to that pale, dry skin. Of course, I was armed with my shooter. Behind the lens, I'm a Calamity, a Starr.

Hugo wears a snake skin and, sometimes, I go into camera mode -- without the camera. I touch him and fuck him -- from a safe distance. Click. Of course, my own skin is disturbed. It is neurotic, not exotic, smooth-pocked with perversion. It's a deceptively suicidal shade. I do, at least, understand our skins.

I wanted to return to the wetlands, and take it down from the branch, and put it in the trunk of Hugo's Honda. And because of that desire, that dreadful fascination... well, he would do anything for me -- except shed his skin.