plovers

i pointed at them, gleeful
so tiny, keening as they skimmed the foamy line between surf and sand.
i made a soft cartoonish trilling noise as they paraded by
because in my head it was the natural sound their frantic little legs should have made
as they passed us.

"piping plovers!" i told you.
you did not believe me.

the way you took my hand, lifting it from the sandy gap between our towels
not without the pretense of subtlety,
i wonder - was that out of obligation, love, or fear?
did i feign sleep? i think i did.
i was warm - not from the sun, or from your touch, but from the drink in me.
and because of that warmth i was oblivious to the biting chill of the atlantic.

you followed me in without complaint.

beyond the converging breakers, i could see Great Neck,
and beyond that, past the salted, reeking marshes - in my mind's eye,
the centuries old yellow house i once lived in.
before you.

i was thankful you did not know me then
in a car beyond the jetty with the headlights off.
or in a Parker bog duck hunting shack slamming yukon jack.
or stuck in the low tide on a boat stinking of mackerel, blood, and swill.
but then, i thought,
you know me now,
and that's really no better.

so

i did not look to the vast sea, but to the tiny birds.
and you did not believe me.

7:06 PM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

shut up

cheese.

6:41 AM - 2 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

48 hours

free drinks the whole way

watching the fireworks from above

pine and maple on my fingers

marshland lobster traps and

stories my grandpa told me about sinking

aloft is aloft

how about ma's homemade red sauce

roasted garlic and onions

every corner of the house

painted on

riding the backroads with pops

on the back of the harley

i used to take guitar lessons there

and there

when i thought there was more to it all

but i'm all smiles still

despite the mutant fish

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i like quails
Current mood: i love picking my mood from a drop box.

i remember when barry graduated from loyola his entire family came down to new orleans and because i was the faithful, goofy roommate i was invited out for dinner and such. we went to the upperline which i do believe is off of magazine. near vaqueros, where efrain and i drank pitchers of margueritas before our biking adventures. so, the upperline... there were about 8 bottles of wine ordered for 12 or so people. i ordered quail for the first time ever. the quail was delicious. i sat right next to barry's dad. he was once in the seminary and almost became a dominican priest. he ordered himself a sazerac. and one for barry and i as well. i hate the taste of licorice yet i savored every sip.
after dinner we went to mike's on joseph. if memory serves me (like it does the iron chef announcer), mike was a family friend, an older gay academic. he had a giant painting of gloria steinem over his mantle. he also had some really valuable jazz and heritage festival prints. he gave us all champagne and was quite witty.
once mike went out of town and entrusted barry to housesit. barry and i of course caused some trouble. that was the week that his friend mark came to town. mark was...yeah, mark. mmm... i wonder where that guy ended up.
barry and i were dropped back at our apartment on birch and promptly passed out in our sweltering living room. i do believe we spent the entire next day eating grilled velveeta sammiches and watching the real world hawaii marathon.
whenever i see quails, i think of that. and i see quails alot now...

3:31 AM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment

shahk nightmares part 2

last night.
i am flying a 2 seater sea plane alone, somewhere over the keys or somewhere in the carribean. i run out of fuel and the engine fails so i land in the middle of the ocean. it's hot as sin. dozens of hammerhead sharks begin to circle the plane. they are communicating with me telepathically, droning and chanting. i'm disturbed enough that i can't go back to sleep because the 'voices' of hammerheads are rattling around in my head.

10:49 AM - 2 Comments - 1 Kudos - Add Comment

shahk nightmares part 1

sometime in march. date not available. i am hitchhiking on some barren desert road. a pick-up pulls up. older creepy guy is driving. i don't seem to care. we drive along in silence and he begins to rub my thigh. i ignore his advances. i then become aware that there is a large container of raw, bloody meat on the seat inbetween us. creepy truck driver guy opens the sliding back window and throws large chunk of meat into the pick-up bed. the pick-up bed is full of live sharks. the sharks go into a frenzy over the meat. he closes the window. we drive on in silence...the cycle continues

10:38 AM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment