Sunday, September 16, 2012

two things by me

at work
I am in the california wilderness, with snowy peaks in the distance,
walking through tunnels in the endless manzanita thickets
and watering the little cannabis plants that reach towards the sun
unaware that they are illegal.
every step i take scatters dark lizards into hiding.
the jays hop through the bushes shedding dull feathers that glow blue in the sun,
and though the locals call them ‘trash birds’, they are radiant.
the eagles overhead have no idea that they are supposed to be symbols.
last night a mother cougar screamed like a dying woman
and this morning there were paw prints as big as my palm
in the soft dirt at the edge of the gravel road. but amidst all this,
it is the sight of your perfect boobs
in a picture you sent to my cell phone
that makes me feel in awe of nature.

(the following is a guided meditation. please close your eyes and have someone read it to you while you visualize it)

"Sit with this feeling for a while"

you wake up from a winter nap. its already dark and that’s confusing. you feel like you were cheated out of some precious hours of sunlight. you decide that you might as well leave the house today because if you don’t you’ll feel like a slug that deserves a good salting or a slug that drowns in a dish of beer left in the garden. either way you don’t feel like being a gastropod so you bundle up and brave the elements. you walk down the street and feel the crunch of big salt crystals underfoot. You think that the city must have heard a storm was on the way. You either appreciate the preemptive strike against mother natures disruption of your everyday comfortable patterns, or you hate it. Which do you choose? What does that say about you? Sit with this feeling for a while.

You are caught up in this thinking and don’t realize that you are right near a fence that a crazed chow dog is about to try and bite you through. You can’t jump back quick enough to dodge its jaws. But, amazingly, the chunk of your jacket that the dog bit just slides right out of its mouth. The chow has no teeth! You think it must be an old dog. You either mock it or feel sorry for it. Which do you choose? What does that say about you? Sit with this feeling for a while.

You walk on to the 7-11 to get a big slurpee. The whole way to the store has been heavily salted, and you almost wipe out a few times like a cartoon villain running on top of a bunch of marbles. A weird greek looking dude is at the register and says hi or something, you can’t really tell cause his accent is too thick. you mix the red and the blue slurpee flavors because that is the shit. you try to make small talk with the greek but you realize he’s not greek, he just has no teeth! he says something else in what could be another language but is probably just a strange dialect of toothless english, and you don’t understand what he meant until he points to the cash register which reads: “1.85”.

you pay with your stupid credit card. you smile nervously and he gets freaked out and says something to a customer that is just coming in. you can’t wait to commiserate with someone else about toothless possibly-greek guy but shit! this new guy is toothless too. you try to say something but he looks at you like one of those bats with horrible giant noses that live in the nocturnal animal exhibit of the zoo. He echolocates at you in some mostly indecipherable semblance of gummy english and you run out onto the salty sidewalks and you look down and realize it isn’t salt its teeth! the fucking street is littered with teeth and from now on everyone you meet will probably be toothless and you bet no one got any coins from any faeries in the process and you slip and slide your way home.

once home, you either drink most of a handle of whiskey and remove your teeth one by one with a string and a doorknob, or you turn back into a slug and slide down into the ocean until a desperate fish eats your dead slime. Which do you choose? What does that say about you? Sit with this feeling for a while.

I (georgios) divide my time between new orleans, new england, and old california. I have been a camp counselor, a migrant laborer,  an extra on TV, and occasionally a writer.

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