March 27th, 2005


I had lunch with Nick today......before work.

Mr Smith.

It was........Alien.


But Alien.

I felt like I was looking at him for the first time.

We ate at Katz's Deli on West 6th street..........
Ordered soup.
I had the vegetable, he the Matzah ball.

We looked at it.

And ordered Bloody Mary's.
Big ones.

We poked at it...and talked.

I ordered a Bass Ale, he got a water.

I had my soup packed up for later......for work.
And lit a cigarette.

He lit one next.

We talked.

It was raining outside.
We were seated by the window.

As he drove me to work....I reached over to fix his hair,
ran my fingers back through it as I have a thousand times,
sitting in that chair.

I saw him close his eyes, and remember.

just for a moment.

I saw a flash of small regret.

And I saw him still it, and put it back in it's place.

I never knew this man.
I do not know him.

I only know about him.
We were comfort to each other.

That is why--there was no passion in our arguments.
Why we never really argued.

I wanted--what I saw making people happy all around me.
HE gave it to me.

Every curve of the SHAPE of that THING.

I was enough.
He was enough.

We were good at the SHAPE.

Clever people, talented people, lonely people.

He was always closed to me.....
but I convinced myself that this was good.
For ONCE in my life I had found a man who did not CLING to me.

I loved that, I him.

We had fun together.

We were impressive at Parties.

He was sitting there across from me, today.
Explaining about how he loved the Matzah balls...but not the noodles.
"Unleavened--that's the stuff!"
We laughed.

He raised the spoon-cut bite to his mouth.

I stirred my own soup.

I fished out a big chunk of potato and then drew hard
on the straw of my enormous bloody mary.

The vodka finally hitting the bloodstream of my empty stomach....
The rain had stopped.

The sun was buzzing down through the clouds, and the perfume
of the woman behind me was making it hard to breathe.
Spirited Away

(no subject)

There's a drunk man outside.......with a bad tear jerking Country song turned up to +100.
He's singing along.
He's singing alone.

He's banging his bottle on the supports of this building.
Women are yelling at him now.

I'm going to bed--
before I join him.

G'night All.