Studying Hunger Journals, page 14
Pools of energy while you wait for worth. Five and dime. A criminal’s crime. An abscess or sore. Insects that bore. Potato. Loaves. The incense of corn. The pestilence the rape. The hairy ape. An artless, a core, a trip to the middle of the earth, go back for more stores, a rock a stone spreading pebbles, the country is harder than the leaves that it used to be, the country is resistant to flame, disillusion it, you spoke in the dark last night, I talk in the invisible can’t be heard, lined up, so what, what a shelf what a remote line-up the hill lets cut in, let’s drop a line, let’s let fall a stone pebble, down canyon grand mile thousand speak exhaust fumes the sensible expected and so, so far we have had to have rules, period.
But overnight everything changes and washes away where we stay and study for a while. Some space. How do we get started, you are waiting to get going, let’s see go. Residue can be chewed as lawns mowed for a residence which even can be moved en masse by people who do that. I do. That is defined. You don’t pay. All the tricks of the monsters of the past came to help him move the house. I mean all the knowledge of the tricksters of the future emerged from their temporary dip to remove it, it’d been moved before. I mean all the ink pens of the distance stancheoned the structure of the building to be moved. I mean all the mobsters of the present devoted action to rough up the foundation. I mean all the trees that can’t be seen are uprooted. I mean all the nests above mountains overturned. I mean all the insignificant revolutions of the earth on its axis are stopped, come now. Only time to. Gotta go. Simple measures. I’m being watched, bled.
Andy and someone are arrested for dope: we drive I’m nervous down a crowded street in Grace’s car, four girls get in the back, there’s no room for me, I’m about to go around the back to get in the front when a mad car, the traffic’s bad, pulls his front end under our rear, I’m abandoned, where did the car go, ours, disappeared, but someone’s there with me, maybe the “companion” or another girl or girls. The “companion” isn’t trustworthy, he’s so crazy there’s no telling what he’ll do, he doesn’t talk much, short hair like the army, he’s a killer, maybe an attack pilot. Other girls come, one is Cordelia or Cornelia and the car and Max come back, Cordelia represents the connection or deal, I don’t understand, Max explains it to me being careful not to use the word dope. We go to pick them up and Andy has the dope. It’s a restaurant we’ve been to earlier (we’ve also been to separate parks, Max and I, two blocks away from each other and I don’t know if I can walk the distance (from David’s to where Max works)). But the restaurant is now a movie theater, ornate box office isolated in the middle of the entrance, and Andy and another guy are out there in front, there’s blood on the left sides of their faces, they’re hurt, they’ve been wounded but the blood’s not really there. Everybody gets out of the car to help but me, I’m stunned and I watch, someone wipes Andy’s face and the other guy’s girlfriend sort of kneels at his feet grabbing his waist and crying. Then I see the cops, it’s a set-up and they’re just acting, they’ve been staggering and moaning as if to faint but the blood was invisible, visible only to us, we’ve been set-up, but the sight of them suffering was so awful and what would happen next, that my breathing from fear was a heavy pounding of my heart, it wakes me up and then I plan how I would drive the car away and leave them all and get help and who’s with me in the car? It’s the “killer-companion”.
A colorless dream, in dark green, that’s why the blood is invisible, gray-brown.
They watch the news. You’re right it’s a fortuitous cave caved-in my way and there’s a real out-and-out competition going on but I got enough energy for regular life, no doubt about it, you come through, the Yankees hang on the verge, the Maxes talk seven Septembers, everybody returns in red sox. I’m a regular reporter outside the sensitive self that seems to be full of holes by now it must be, each to each, the ache to ache, fences drawn and quartered, quartered by a horse, the horse events of the last century if the day won’t let us be, won’t leave us alone to dry our tents in the sun, yes that goes on continuously, to make them last forever, to prevent mold like a German, said. How dead they are. How ahead of myself the holes I am. I know the reporter’s an ace of a star that’s why he had the balls to come in to the very first event in the first place. What’re you doing? Just fucking around, hanging around, you know, the usual things, like burying men and women in giant screws and the screwing of them into the ground, afterwards. The top of the screw is a restaurant but it’s very expensive, let’s eat.
In the airport with Uncle: the book about special marriages, I leave and don’t know what time the plane is; in the airport with Max: we fly first class with Walter Matthau, drink wine in a bedroom, “There are so few mirrors at home;” in the airport with David: I got woke up, I didn’t call Bartholomew and the guy who was knocked out.
Somewhere in the open something is open and it’s simple and clear: you don’t have to wait, in the rain, man or woman, back again to make it, to make it as if there’s something you could own, you wait for the right moment, it’s crowded, colors no colors, entrance exit, align them in a pure close-up fantasy, reline, realign, stoop. I was sitting on a stone that day, I was sitting on a rock, give me money, the breeze the air is clear, rain not coming down hard in any space. I can smell it’s wet, I can smell it’s sea, the driver doesn’t use his windshield wipers, he takes his time, I’m calm again as a cat, now he turns them on where’s the time and where’s the acrobats in blue, I’ve gotten lazy, no I’ve gotten stored and like to go slow as giant pincers are calm at night in the night in the night in it, rain stopped right by the clock, it’s 1:33, I hope we get stuck here for hours and you come speeding backwards in a two-man helicopter down to lift me out, today’s accident is a three-car accident, yesterday it was the New York Times fire and Sunday the cave, cave closes it’s V. You meet people you know in the store, they rain on you, you have a good day and say your name, Bernadette, I admit it’s soon, it can snow anytime as much as anything’s fortuitous or else on land or sea.
Something’s burning, I give directions for the burn for the lift-off for the press, I think his tires are loose, energy’s loose somewhere like rain, rains around, street blocked off, all said.
And the boat went down to the island. Even though they watched us, they had to let us get out and run around, the blue steps, timing us. Movie-horses running in a city, no running opposite. Birthday party, pool table, watch out.
On my way home I saw a terrific looking chic in a vest with t errific looking black men with high cheek bones and gigantic dogs. This is my idea of being middle class in a taxi down the highway in the middle of the day as I take my vacation in the middle of the school year, don’t go too fast cause I get scared into getting married, let’s born babies both, the cave scene, something’s burning was kind of timing, let’s go sight-seeing but even there I’m stopped as a circle is a line, I don’t wanna hear about it, I listen to my body and my face, they play this song called every day people and the traffic’s jammed, black guys turning around, driver wears his undershirt, we’re delayed, they wonder why I keep busy, shit another accident on the other side of the way and everybody’s rubber-necking and even sirens blow, the wind blows my sincere shirt open, narcissism spells itself, where is it, militant songs against dressing, I’m a trade unionist, I am speaking here as a trade unionist, I will wear your clothes as you wear mine, they can be changed and interchanged, all our clothes are the artifact work of our dreams, undressed in dreams, naked in the street, a woman dreams a man is on the street, more sirens, a mean woman in her dreams, a man on the street, just mean women and a feather man, my helmet’s on, I’m a caver, my hair’s real long, I’m an observer, I’m hung like the curtains, closed, so’s not to tempt you to look in at all at me.
I could see for miles and miles and miles, laughing and being bitten by a mosquito who makes me sneeze and waking up sweating afraid it’s dawn again and I’ve never been to sleep and realizing I’ve been going over and over something, chapter by chapter, as if it were a dream which it certainly was, I could see for miles and miles and miles, bitten right through the covers, bitten in advance, it makes me sneeze, it makes me create stuff, itch all over.
And just some more taxi blues in the real sometimes it’s the best something for something that’s fucked up or something that is only dream, dream all morning review, review what can you do but review, what are you able to do, you have this much time, so much time till you can get there, I can’t stand people calling and calling and yelling so early in the morning, today again the haze is deep, demands energy from me and barely bearing it, I know where I am in here as we cut around the 25 mph curve and wedding, what you gonna do, it’s unlimited supply at this speed a sound like a bird comes out of the car I sing this song, the amiable stars are out behind the light somewhere, I’m waiting for them and I don’t want nothing in between and no one else, it’s an easy ride, I take them on they don’t make no demands on my supply but I volunteer anyway, anyway entropy, she’s too good for you, too good for you, that’s what they always say, visit a picture on the film, it eats into something there, something’s a history but not the real one or not the right one or not the stone one, up a hill by the big apartment parents what a nice guy is driving me here and happy, a bottle of wine in a pigskin of wine fruit of the vine, Bessie Smith always sends you the news you don’t have to wait for it, you don’t set fires to get what you want, your demands.
He leaves them free, he extends you, me, out of a space in his head where it says so, so many layers to language maybe language the your it work(s) well maybe something else’ll come up soon like direct paint or startling animosity, who’s talking? A whole crowd a whole slew of primitive cultures slide by the door three by three, two men and a woman, two men and a woman, draw it. What next is sure, how does that happen, you speak direct to the table that wasn’t always there, the church brought it in. Come in, the table’s heady and necessary like give him a little head, he doesn’t know the details of the situation so put a top on it, switch to convertible, the topper the capper the switch AC/DC Kathy has no current for her vegetable receptable and other fresh stuff, so she’s create stuff and he must be rich. Into the cave to park the car, always fighting you inch back to the dream it’s a mystery, stores of them ready to power you over. I give up I take one out. It’s the blue-face dream, curtains parted, someone can do something alone.
The colors distinguish between then and now the cigarette falls on the floor then and now, I’m wondering what it is I’m afraid of it could be on t.v. is anywhere the chance of just anything now or not entering in, I had forgotten how a comfort to fill the old hungers in old/new way is. So you see one way or the other I did escape from you two, except I can’t eat, eat it? And you can’t swallow it. Something was or wasn’t planned, from what you tell me from what you don’t tell me I’m sure on edge, the paratroopers are here, I’m getting further out there, I’m getting distracted by the news the phone rings it’s some old friend just hanging on here, fuck him I wouldn’t talk to him afraid I’ve lost you. I won’t give in I’ll watch the news I’ll wait it out like always like before, you have somewhere you go there every day, something sticks in your mouth you can’t swallow it, a knock on the door is Barry to use the phone, what’s up that’s funny the lamp the lit the cave was his so what, woke up, blueberries and cheese are the support mechanism, people come and go, he checks for money, he checks for beers, someone was here eons ago who watched me, now I have “dates” swell what, I’m an author or else. I’m so scared of what, but as long as I’m gonna be here and there’s nothing but black beauty on I might as well do it, I’ve found the avengers now, in black and white with Diana Rigg and a frog man coming up out of the water probably from an underwater cave, cave mound and so on I kind of like her voice, it’s as though it was all planned to give me time, to do something.
Shell: other people just sit and stare but they just don’t worry about it, it’s a habit, here’s a chance for me to completely surrender, here’s a chance for me to stand up and see what all that’s like again, lonesome traveler, brings me the news, it won’t be nothing but a struggle that no one can see that’s the beginning of it and that’s the end. Some lines get recited, some lines get excited, how do you usually pass the time? Till what?
And now I seem to have to write: I know I can get up and move around but I can’t feel good no matter what I try I can’t feel good eating, drinking water seems to be the thing that comes closest to feeling good at all, a pain in my side, I want the wine secretly to make me feel good as it’s supposed to, I want inside to be outside and not knowing that, there’s nothing better about not-the-person, nothing seems to predominate here, the fucking time passes, I’m not exactly free to write cause no one’s here, I leaned back and watched something-nothing on t.v., I could talk on the phone all night, I could nothing in a way, shit, I can’t wait any more, I’ll stop waiting, images from beyond my eyes are demanding it, I want to go to sleep, there’s no reason for it, it’s 10 p.m., all the news you need to know, do you know where your children are, why the fuck don’t you call me my child, you fuck, someone is talking about legitimate self-defense in relation to a thing they are calling realities like Hitler rules the world and if you don’t eat and if you don’t eat you wake up, images start to form and magic monsters appear and much of the stars we’re borne on are crutches are crumbling they’ll last out the year for fear, they’ve decided to discredit McGovern by pretending he’s not there, they’ve got it all worked out by computer if pres Nix does no-nothing he’ll win for sure by a nose, that’s the view on the outside, now there’s a part that I wouldn’t want to be inside too, how do you do tricksie and dick please don’t come in you’re prejudiced against potato pies, you think they’re only for blacks, go back to Seagurt and sing and burp the national anathema mowing lawns till you die, you see I’m outside, isn’t that good of me, isn’t that fine like pie in the face, like a map for fears.
Something green intrudes itself in like a blot on my record of my total map, can’t say no love, no food, I’ve got love and I love alone some like special no-air treatments from the zone of no air, who eats anyway and who ever sleeps without one, something that goes on waiting and on and something green that you fear, no care. Both will dissipate waiting, will disappear something that was here go away waiting I’m waiting for something to leave, left again, I’m waiting, streets, for something to go, hello this is your last chance in transit, hello this is your last chance to, that death implies a presence, death makes the I’s the eyes duplicate themselves, they’re appearing, no certain nothing, there’s a lot that could, there’s nothing that couldn’t, please begin to lay down, I’m tired, my fears and fuck them, no prick, I’m sure I can’t. And please begin, suggestion of sudden death, sudden death is when I forget some kind of sudden death of tennis match waiting, and a drift in-shore where the whole town’s waiting waiting for you, sun’s gone, after the heat’s run and congratulations, waiting, and how, sun’s gone, do you feel and sorry your pen’s running out again, we’ll take good care of you, do you need dry clothing or to be turned upside down.
It doesn’t matter how much I write I’ll never effect the cure, I’ve got no introduction to time that fuck, he doesn’t wanna be influenced what a prick you can take your cock that you write it all with and bury it in a fucking cave, blast explosion that was, the last time anybody ever would be killed in that cave fucking week goes by like dynamite and I’ll never know every one the same something, take me home, do I live in West Virginia, Carolina or the rest, do storms break out there, does money flow from trees and if someone came, if they came, fuck shit piss and let me add your mother’s milk, let down.
I drew a rainbow or a spectrum with two blue eyes below it encased in gorgeous and vampiric reds and said, Dear David this must be you. I pretended to write words when all I was doing was scribbling, then I crossed them all out. Just by accident I happened to accumulate color like heads of hair or even fright wigs, five in a circle with an ochre Gclef in the center. I scribbled some more but instead of crossing it out I underlined it. Then I drew a giant hermaphroditic genital in red with waves of heat or light emanating the way children draw the sun. Next a sun of royal blue. And then three ornate arrows in differing shades of orange, green and mauve.
A brave thing a studious and brave thing, how can they drive it, how can they know, stoplight, the quiver is all in your head as I disappear out the door, full light of my own will to go there out of the almost completely surround of Max and Max is others who know me, is the pen dark enough to be seen on paper of the same color, I like the older drivers who go slow, even on a beautiful day and don’t tail-gate or change lanes a lot, get cut off or swerve over and slow down for the curve but this one at least seems talented in a way and puts the brakes on, someone’s life is much more like murder my new york, what if a wheel fell off or your instincts about the sky were wrong like a sailor or fair weather friend, like a stop on a dime, everytime we’d be becalmed I’d be wanting it to last forever cause quite simple to stop and drift for a while is no (now?) cause for alarm, you can’t count on the weather it’s the same as reading signs: caution merging traffic, the group is on tour the expectations are terrific, let’s have a party but let’s not speak it in case we have to make it new, another pitfall on the highway and somebody fell in, where does language come from, people too out of wombs never end and both never end, will never end, couldn’t, the sky is blue for the age of reason that makes us think of age at all and never reason, we were still part of the underworld where great sacs of vegetables full free are feeding me with their myriad colors, will I will borne reflect in the universe they invent, they invent me and I toy with it, a toy is very sealed, I meant to say serious. I guess anyway the toy is yellow like the pencil there are so many diminutives if you start looking them up.
