Island Story a novella

Drinking alone one night, Sam took off his dress shirt in the middle of the bar, downed his drinks and started singing loudly to a woman who had caught his eye earlier. He threw his head back, letting his hair fly all over the place. Sam was on the ground, jerking his body across the floor. The woman, walked over to him, drunkenly, and knelt by his body and kissed him on the cheek. Sam got up and danced with this woman, pressing his hard body against hers, which were smooth and gentle. The two got out of the bar a little while later and danced under a streetlight, hips pressing together with force. They fell on her bed, Sam’s eyes looking at the fan spinning on the woman’s ceiling, his legs trembling as the her touch massaged him.
She was on top of him now, while Sam grabbed her hips and pulled her closer. They raged on, holding on to each other, until finally Sam gave in. They fell on the bed together, and passed out within minutes of each other.
In the morning, Sam got up, washed himself, buckled his pants, and wet his beard in front of the bathroom mirror. He left a note on her kitchen table, and left for work.









Island Story





At work, Sam counted bills, dealt with customers, set up accounts, all in a kind of hectic rush. He sipped on coffee, doodled on his pad, and put X amount of money into this account, and took X amount of money out of that account. He felt his crotch when he was sure no one was looking and remembered how the woman smelled, strong, and appealing. He liked women who knew what they were doing and were independent.
On his lunch break, Sam took a walk down to his favorite café. He walked with his eyes looking straight ahead, in eager introspection. At the café, he opened doors for people, and stood in line patiently, rocking his body forward, and backward on the soles of his shoes. He did this slowly and surely, taking his time, letting the bulge in his pants press hard on his already closed fit pants.
When the front of the line reached Sam, he ordered himself a coffee, and left a tip in the tip jar. He smiled to the lady at the counter as he thanked her.
A boy. Looking above the top of a book saw this god. He pretended to read but the words on the pages started to blur together and become meaningless until his head hurt. He saw Sam folding the paper and reading intently.
Alex thought Sam must have been an important man with his three piece suit and briefcase. Alex pictured himself leaning up against Sam as he read his paper and smelled his musk. Sam, a man. Still curious about airplanes, still wowed by big trucks, and things he couldn’t explain. Why not be held by your favorite person? Alex thought about how Sam and men like Sam had to deal with life and the world. Always buried in some paper a target for young fags just like me Alex thought. Cupid’s arrow hit, and it hit hard and blindly. Blind as to whom Alex was with, where he was, or when it was. Alex wanted to be his prop to do whatever he was told to do. He told his friends, “I’ve met the one this time.” The one who always looked like Ernest Hemingway, always stood out in a massive crowd moving like ants in crowded streets. When the weather was bad Alex felt the aching and longed for a man to explain things to. To tell them that not understanding was okay, Alex could look for days. He enthused when the sun came out and these creatures roamed outside looking for simple things, though not simpletons. A dry spot maybe, or a little shade. A razor or some shaving cream because earlier in the morning they had grunted while cutting themselves with dull razors and TVs or radios in the background as they felt their beards in bathroom lights and reflections. And, did he wow when he saw them plop in front of the television or think about them in beds with socks still on because they were too tired to take them off, or better yet, maybe they just didn’t care. Alex noted no imperfections thought of nothing else when struck by lust.


The road is long and strange
Love or not love nothing
Mattered any more
Hurt or not

Alex simply didn’t care.
Sam thought about the New York skyline and wondered about things powerful and physical in a feminine way. Scratched his crotch twice felt his beard countless numbers of times. Noticed someone watching him. Thought nothing of it. But then thought it was great that he still had it with the gay guys. Thought about his dad’s words again, words of respect. Smelled his coffee and then drank from the mug sneaking another look. A young guy, he thought to himself.
Noticed a woman walking by the glass window in a short business dress with good fashion sense, and glasses. Sam thought about sneaking a peak under the woman’s dress but then chuckled at his own daydreaming. More curiosity about big phallic buildings. Sam got up, after folding his paper, and headed out the door.
Alex followed Sam out of the café seeing blurs of people, of strangers none as confident as the mysterious bearded lust object to be a sex slave for. None of the teen boys did it for him really. Alex rejected pretty boys, blondes, heartthrobs, boy bands. That was not the meaning of being gay or the meaning of anything. Alex followed Sam around the corner and watched him disappear into a bank. Nighttime, in his bed, Alex imagined his sheets were the man’s body rubbing against his. That’s how he got to sleep at night. Dreaming of what it would be like. It brought him into a dream that night like all the other nights. Sometimes it would be random men like Sam, and sometimes it would be people he knew. They rarely knew Alex. Sometimes it would be whole families. The boy he loved,
his brother, and his father, all using Alex as their boy toy. And he loved every minute of his fantasy recalling the faces of orgasms, and the grunts, the nakedness, the gentle, pulsating movements of bodies in the heat. All three of them cuming one after the other. The first orgasm triggers the second, which triggers the third. Then blackout, and Alex would pull a cigarette out of his pocket and look to the moon. He never understood much and didn’t know a lot of things other boys seemed to be masters at. He never really cared. Always the bearded loners that he could kill for. A drink of coffee with a scone while playing the men’s private national pastime, which should be illegal in all fifty states. Alex liked cum that was thick, hot and slug like. He hated the watery kind, probably from drinking too many liquids, probably from caring too much about one’s personal health. Not manly enough.
Though the local muscle men didn’t do too much for Alex. You needn’t pecks or have the ability to bench press massive amounts of weights. Perhaps because Alex didn’t know where else to look when he was down. What did matter to Alex was that he always had a cigarette at hand that he inhaled from to create rise of blue smoke blurring his view. It was insane that he pretended to see half of the things the other men did, but he did anyway. Because he was a good actor, with skills ranging around mastery. Take your bow, Alex, he thought to himself. Everyday on the bus Alex would act as if one of the other men. Always aware of the curtains in front of him as well as the audience that consisted of pant wearing pizza boys filled with detestable stories of beer and status gulping competitions. Nothing of that sort interested Alex, but surely, as a good actor, he could display a confident image of being down with the bunch while displaying little or none homosexual tendencies. Alex was a fag. A self-described oddity, peering through the windows of decadence like some little kid engaging in his first sinful acts. Alex looked from the corners of his eyes, madly peering at magazines with men, hairy men, tornadoes…nothing like imagining himself propped against one of those statues. Closed eyes thinking about looking through the pages like an elder in hopeful pursuit of gardening books. Like innocent birds perched and calling, cawing at their ancestors. But then bleach blond women looking like twigs would use their blue eyes to try and cast spellbinding heterosexual glances on poor fetal positioned Alex. So cold, whirring, spinning in circles, trance, pony tails and lollipops and the emergence of men sucking each others’ cocks in his bedroom with the lingering smell of cum and sweat and what never was. And then there was that darkness again.

Sam got on the train. A subway rat letting the sun touch his hair, his skin, some tunnels and the fast rushing sounds of slow metallic heart beat and tape filtering mermaid calls…some useless rat and now the lights are too strong above Sam and they are moving, and Sam then realizes that he is moving. A trip to the restroom where an old man urinates on the floor after drinking too much. Missing days of the old west where saloons existed, card playing, whiskey drinking, and none of this nonsense. Sam smelled the nauseating smell of the old man as he passed him silently. Strangers in trench coats where eyes are unseen, only slits of yellow, always utterly alone clenching suitcases made from a fresh kill of alligators.
Sammy old boy where are you going? Do you know where all this graffiti is coming from? Are you still with it old boy? Why is it still so fucking hot? Cold, I mean. Cold. Up the stairs and then up the stairs now Sam is knocking on a door next to arguments in Spanish. The door creeks open and a man of Sam’s age greets him. Room colored with old browns, dirty reds, and statues of faint clowns who’ve lost their laughter ages ago, along with the past presidents. An embrace as the sun sets against this drab of an excuse for a room which is actually a cavity assigned by the government, a government, one government, senator, philosopher, mechanic, janitor. Some unwashable stains on a sixties floor with nothing but a TV melting, and eyes getting heavier. “Let’s go for a walk, eh Walt?”
Sam says and both of them wander down the hallway and stairs to the fresh smell of dusk when both are not afraid anymore because they have each other and can deflect irritating stares of status quo on legs. Sam swears he sees aliens or robots sometimes. Both at a bar, but even before that, both walking, talking on sidewalks with cracks, imperfections exist of course. Touched by a human hand.
“I think they’re building some kind of library downtown.”
“I would like to see that.” Says Sam, “like to see more libraries.”
“You ever seen the world’s tallest library?”
“Yes. I think it was out in a small town in Massachusetts somewhere.”
“Mmm. The trees were best in that town when they were crisp and brown.”
“I liked it like that but it always reminded me of the forthcoming death of a winter they have.”
“Well, living up there you have to learn to enjoy the winter. You never learned to ski?”
“Did you?”
“Me? Hell no!”

They both laughed and held on to each other. A picture was taken by an onlooker and was later developed in a lab. In the darkness the photographer could still hear the laughter that warmed his heart and scared the pigeons sitting up above the mighty city. The fluttering of wings protruded Sam and Walt’s attention as they looked at the leaving flock with awe, keeping in mind Sam is still curious about airplanes.
The large glasses of ale were then brought to them in a nightly lit room, and a foreign voice singing softly on a jukebox with women smoking elongated cigarettes on plastic filters. In the smoky room where ancient parties were once held of ragtime stories and economic depression the rising of an evil called capitalism. Walt’s face looked brighter and brighter to Sam. Sam was listening to Walt but every now and then he would look at his lips moving and words would come flying out of his mouth like words from a typewriter you know and some of them would be displayed. “Tofu.” “Daughter”. “Lonely.” “You old fucker.” Walt would say to Sam, muffle his hair a bit, and both would burst out laughing, looking down at the table and fingers fidgeting. Pats on the back of both and bartender snickering barely looking up from behind the counter where he could see all the action while mixing drinks. Soon nothing came out of Walt’s mouth. Words turned into monotonous voices sounds emitting like that of a Walkman running out of batteries, fading.
Everything sounding far away except for laughter which always demands attention, followed by Sam’s winning smiles. Words, platforms, leading to something greater, “boss bust my balls today.” Minutes ran into hours, colliding with time which was a full moon in the sky smiling down on them. Sam was back on earth again, connecting and playing defense to Walt’s gentle offense. Occasionally reaching out to lightly pat him on the shoulders.
“How are you sleeping?” Sam asked.
“Not so good. But it’s getting better.”
“How so?”
“I always keep liquor in the fridge now.”
“Still living it up eh?”
“You bet.”
Hours crossed each other and more drinks were ordered and the more drunk Sam got. People wanted a piece of Walt and Sam’s sunshine. Two women who were both staring intently got up the nerve to slide over to the two men conversing which gave way to head turns from Sam and the bartender. Sam produced a smile in his drunken state and downed the remaining whiskey sour in his cup.

Next morning, Sam in his office, the taste of last night in his mouth. He thought about Walt and realized he hadn’t shaved. He quickly excused himself to the restroom where he stuck his teeth out from his mouth and splashed water on his face. It came to him that he had a long day ahead of him. Well, he thought if the nights were going to be this long…
He handled customers with a distance, and the silence that turned many away, drew others even closer in. It seemed like he couldn’t get Walt’s face out of his mind. At the bar, he had ceased to be his regular old self, making sure things were clear and cut like the end of night and the beginning of day. He remembered a kiss between his lips and a woman’s he had met at a bar. But he wondered why Walt had not been there to kiss him back. He remembered a lot of things. Like embracing men who smile and mock homosexuality in an innocent way if that’s possible. More a mock of their own sexuality and a reassuring smile that means, “I’m not gay…” followed by shadowboxing and more pats on backs for straighthood. Whatever he thought, he continued to resurrect the keen masculinity so it could be seen by the public eye. Supposing there were more things to think about besides men biting beer bottle caps with one swift
tug from their teeth. Sam walked out of the office with a big
headache and guiding feet leading him to the same café he liked
to go on almost all lunch breaks. No one knew what the thoughts
that came from Sam’s head were, but they looked at him as if he
were one of those people with a lot on his mind, but had little
to say about it. He opened doors, stood in lines, and ordered drinks, which he paid with a twenty. He read a significant amount of the day’s news and then closed his eyes in contemplation like he was on a subway home. An angel tapped him on the shoulder at work as if telling him to get some rest. Sam bolted out of the swinging doors with goodbyes said, machines shut off. Sam walked down the streets heavily, the sun peeking through from different slits created by the spaces in between the buildings. The city, as if it was one big sundial. In his apartment, he lay in bed with a book and a little while later, drifted off into sleep. Sam woke up in the middle of the night, seduced by the moon. He put on a jacket and went for a stroll down midnight streets. He then decided he would go visit Walt again. It made sense to Sam since he had been thinking about him all day.
Walt greeted him at the door with his bathrobe on and a sleepy look to his face.
“I hope I’m not disturbing you.” Sam said quietly.
“No, no, not at all. Come on in, I was just about to watch this video.”
Sam sat down on the couch in front of the TV while Walt got both of them beers from the fridge. Quietly Sam started squirming secretly and couldn’t control the sensitive jerks that were coming from his crotch. The video started and the two men clincked their bottles.
“Cheers” was all they said as the movie began to spit out images and sounds. Black and white, some Bogart picture. The TV began to come closer and closer to Sam and Walt until both of them had to lean back and watch out of one eye. No, it was a Hitchcock film. Sam sat in his own world while Walt began charmingly commenting on the film. Sam concluded that Walt had seen this movie before, but he thought of nothing else. All Sam could do was look at the screen with amazement.
Silently the movie raged on and Walt began to fall asleep. Sam seeing Walt had fallen asleep, got up from his couch and walked around his living room. He looked out onto the streets from Walt’s apartment and saw a couple huddling with one another just a little ways further down on the next block. Sam sighed and walked back to the couch and turned the TV off. He then lay by Walt’s side and watched with bewilderment. After awhile Sam carefully placed two fingers in Walt’s salt and pepper hair and enjoyed the smell of the tired man. When Walt’s eyes opened, Sam quickly refracted his fingers from Walt like a cat retracting its claws, quick, with lightning speed. Walt just laid there eyes barely open, and Sam had no idea of what to say. “You like what you see do you?” Walt said quietly. When Sam didn’t reply Walt got up and walked over to the window just missing the couple Sam had seen earlier, disappear into the night. Walt walked back to the couch and held Sam’s hands in his palms. Sam opened his mouth to say something but was silenced by the surprising swoop of Walt’s kiss. Walt came and laid his body on top of Sam, while Sam’s legs swung around and added pressure to Walt’s back, pressure on pressure. Afterward the two stood back to back, facing different directions of the room with a cigarette in each of their hands, contemplating what was left that didn’t seem to complicate their lives any further. But in the heat of the night, both men naked and hot, Sam straddled on top of Walt as he thrust himself into Sam. Sam could not tell what was real and what wasn’t. Sweat started pouring down from Sam’s forehead as it hit his eyes and made everything blur. And as the sweat traveled down Sam’s cheeks and onto his lips, it created a salty taste of insecurity and spontaneity. The vision came back to him, traveling back at break neck speed as Walt was finishing what he started with his hips bent up like a rusty old bridge making way for a steamship.
Sam walked along the streets late into the night, and early into the day. Still tender, but weary after a good fuck. A little panic struck him but he shook it off as he picked up his feet and flew across the city on a late night train. In bed he hid beneath the sheets and jerked himself off thinking about the day, the night, and everything in between. After he had finished, he noticed his room starting to heat up and drip with sweat. He wondered about the city that never was over 500 years ago, and thought about deli sandwiches with a beer. He wondered if life would be better if he were a farmer. So Sam slept all day Saturday and when he awoke he didn’t do much except for masturbate

Alex stuck his head out of the car that contained thereof his other friends from the city. The wind blew in his face, and his eyes hypnotized by the lights of the city. They sped up and raced across downtown which was a reddish yellow painted by street lights.
“Let’s go over there.” One of Alex’s friends pointed to a strip
bar and the car curbed around an intersection, stopping on the side of the street. Jon, who was also in the car, took out a joint from his pocket, lit it up and inhaled marijuana smoke, passing it on to Alex.
“This is really good shit, Alex.”
Alex tugged on the joint with his lungs and fell backwards pushing his back into the seat of the car. Alex passed the joint to a guy who called himself Maverick, and he gave it to Martin after burning the tip of the join to ashes. Everyone started getting out of the car except Alex who told them that he would meet them inside. The three excited boys ran inside quickly while Alex, stoned out of his mind, took it all in and inhaled. In his mind, the car started moving, traveling against time. It was on a nice country road, full of porches and mothers waiting for their home baked apple pies to cool off, and old yeller dogs playing with eight year old boys in corn fields. He laughed out loud which echoed in the chambers of the car reminding him how quiet and alone he was. He felt antsy
inside like he was underwater and gasping for air. He was tired
but couldn’t get to sleep no matter what. He tried to fight this feeling by taking a few deep breaths but couldn’t stop feeling so hopeless. He couldn’t even come up with the right words that made him feel so hopeless. He tried rolling down the windows, but each movement his body made was more intense than the next. He pictured the car slowly falling off a dock into the river, while he was inside, the car, flooding with water. Cold water made him shiver as it soaked his clothes. Help me, his mind thought, but not words or sounds came out of Alex’s mouth because he was mute, and all he could do was look through the windshield with no particular object in his line of sight. Paralyzed, Alex began to be aware of his problems, and aware that his problems paralyzed him. He quickly told himself to shut up, gave a look at the rearview mirror and flashed a sweet smile as if saying, “yes I’m having a jolly time.” He promised himself he would have fun tonight, and not let the best get to him. He strutted into the strip club, passing bouncers, passing men with flannel, with suits, and girls in flashy clothing and fake fur, possibly dancers? In he went, with the lights acting like spotlights energizing single spaces where men’s eyes would gaze. As much attracted to the light and the dancing women.
Alex found his friends amidst the noise, the chaos, and the rising of precisely timed uproar of applause and wolf calls in the disgusting heap of gin and tonic, post-modern apocalyptic nightmare that was.
Each one of them, Jon, Maverick, and Martin all sat with a dazzling girl almost twice their size, but tonight and the nights before and after this night, this number on the calendar, the women would surrender dignity and everything else to put on shows, entertainment for important men, yet to be, with suits and jobs and death, a shallow grave that wipes out meaning for all of us, we know this, yet we still strive to make everything as shitty as possible for as long as we’re here why not make a big fuss out of everything.
“Hey Alex come over here.” Jon waved him in, as Alex brushed by a crowd of men and made it over to his party of six.
“This here’s Star, over there is Jasmine, and that’s Yvonne.”
They all had exotic names like that I bet, Alex thought. The three women stared up at Alex while still clinging on to their men. “Surely we have a girl for Alex too?” Jon said to Star, as she
rose to her feet to go in search of another girl presumably. Alex followed Star with his eyes and saw that she was talking to another girl who was wearing bunny ears on her head, and had cotton ball tail that men would squeeze. The bunny girl looked over in Alex’s direction as Star pointed to him.
“Come sit down, Alex.” Martin said. It had occurred to Alex that he had not moved the whole time and politely accepted a seat in the elongated booth that was too big for them. “That’s Star, she’s something ain’t she?” Jon leaned over and whispered in Alex’s ear.
“Yeah,” he said, though Alex thought nothing of Star or Jasmine, or Yvonne. For he could not picture going to bed with any one of them. The thought of it just made Alex feel hallow and empty.
“Hi baby, you must be Alex.” Alex looked up and saw the bunny girl standing over him. Star came back and sat down next to Jon. “Alex, this is Amanda,” Star said pointing to the bunny girl. Alex must have been out of it and not said anything, because at that point Jon nudged him on the shoulder while the others stared at his grouchy face. “Oh, hi Amanda, how are you?” Amanda came over and wiggled her butt as she sat on his lap. Alex wondered why people thought it was cute when women dressed up in bunnies, and then thought about the Greeks who wrote about Minotaurs and Centaurs and imagined some people must have gotten off on that. This was probably on the same line. “He’s just rather out of it,” Jon said and made a gesture with his hands pretending to stick a joint in his mouth. This made
everybody laugh and perhaps, Alex giggled a bit too because he needed to laugh. He needed relief.
“So, where are you from?” Alex asked Amanda.
“Oh, somewhere, and nowhere.” Amanda thought about this question for a second, “does it really matter?” Then she looked at Alex straight in the eyes with her own dangerous pair which had no doubt lured a many men into her bed before, “and besides, I want to get to know more about you, and what you like, and what you want.”
At this there came a rise of cheers and howling from the guys.
Alex thought it was strange that Amanda had not even wanted to do a little small talk, but then again all that Alex could see behind Amanda’s skin were her inner robotic circuits, and a tag on the piece of metal that read, “here to pleasure.”
Late into the night when things had gotten mellower, the guys decided to indulge a little bit. Alex was lead upstairs by Amanda and further walked with her down the hall where rooms were located on the right and left that contained drunken sex. A room on the left, Amanda took out her key and unlocked the door with a smile, and both of them went in. Immediately after Alex closed the door, Amanda pushed her body forward onto Alex’s and began to unbuckle his pants. She sucked on his dick, while Alex stood still watching another couple’s silhouette in the act of love across the street in another apartment. Soon he came and fell down on the floor, passing out amidst his cum, and their tired panting.

As Sam walked into his office Monday morning, and even before on the subway, he had wondered what he had done on Friday night. Surely, he thought, there was nothing wrong with having casual sex on the side. Hell he had been having casual sex with people all his life, so why had this incident awakened him to what he was doing? Just because he was with another man? He had once thought about settling down with a woman, just because, doesn’t everyone? He never could fully commit to a relationship, and after numerous delays of marriage dates, his fiancée left him for someone she was having an affair with anyway. From that day forth, he had told himself he would never be socialized into the depressing prison that is marriage. Sam also figured that he had a fifty percent chance of getting divorced, and he thought the risk was too great to go through marriage, and the financially, and emotionally draining process of a divorce. But then he thought about Walt. He was attracted
to Walt, and it had been apparent that Walt was also attracted to him. They were both the same age, and had similar political beliefs, so why not date Walt? He thought about this all day as he worked on bank accounts, and money transfers. At lunch he sat in the park the whole time thinking about a possible relationship with Walt until his head hurt. He decided that he would stop by right after work, or shortly after, to discuss this with Walt. He was old, Sam noticed about himself, and he wasn’t getting any younger. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to be the bitter old man, single, and alone, when he would be too old and sick to attract anyone. He got up off the park bench when the thought of growing old popped in his head and started on a brisk job. He thought that the jog would cheer him up, and perhaps bring out the youth that craved excitement, and action. But instead, he found himself rubbing his leg joints all day, which had become extremely sore, reminding himself of his old age.
Panicking, Sam hopped on the first train to Walt’s house. Sam flew up the stairs and knocked on Walt’s door, after waiting for a good amount of time, he figured that Walt had not come back from work. He knew of a nearby flower shop just around the block, and raced down the flight of stairs, this time with much more urgency. As he walked into the shop, Alex brushed by him, having just purchased some flowers himself. They hadn’t seen each other because of the crowd of people, and both of them were in a great deal of hurry. They, however, would surely meet in some other time, some other place.
Sam rushed in and quickly paid for a bundle of roses. He then walked out of the store calmly, and walked the rest of the way back like he had all the time in the world. He thought about the world ending, the chaos that would accompany the last day of the world. No one would be working, or in school, because nothing would matter. There would be utter chaos, and even that, would not matter as the time pushed onto the next day. He continued his ascent up the stairs in that apocalyptic strut. He thought he saw the back of Walt facing him and carefully made the last steps as he reached the top flight with the bundle of flowers. “Hey Walt,” Sam said. And Walt turned around because he remembered that voice of Sam’s somewhere but hadn’t pinned it to Sam necessarily. He was laughing when he turned around to face Sam, and when he did, another woman next to him was laughing with him. At this point Walt’s face flushed with redness, and the woman tried to stop her laughter which still poured out while clinging onto Walt’s shoulder.
Sam was no idiot, he knew exactly what was going on.
“Hey Walt, these roses are for you.” Sam said half-jokingly, and Sam laughed at that to alleviate the awkwardness. “On my way to see an old friend, and thought it would be nice to stop by,” Sam continued without a beat, “but who would have guessed that ol’ Walt still has it in him?” Sam turned to the woman who was smiling at the comment that was supposed to be flattering, “I don’t think we’ve met before.”
“Oh, Sam, this is Joan, Joan, Sam.” Walt said a bit out of it.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you Joan, truly.” Sam managed to get out.
“Ah Walt, are all you’re friends this charming?” Joan asked.
Sam grabbed Joan’s hand to kiss, and looked up and down her body, “apparently so.”
“Ha, ha. You know Walt and I were just going to have dinner, we’d love to have some company, right Walt?” Walt stared at Sam with angry clenched teeth. Sam saw that Walt did not want him over just this second, but Sam wanted to piss him off, to really get on his nerves. He knew Walt would not get angry as long as this girl Joan was over. She’d get pissed at him no doubt.
“Well I’d be delighted to have you join us for dinner.” Sam said with a smile. Walt and Sam exchanged a quick glance before Walt opened his apartment door.


Alex walked down the street with a prideful strut. He was glad that he saw the thing through with Amanda. Even though he thought that it was just sleazy, Alex went easy on himself, and considered life to be too short to be so uptight. Again he thought about how short life was and how people have created such a stupid world.
He had first thought of this while at a friend’s apartment, smoking weed and listening to records. He bought himself flashy clothes, and sunglasses, shorts that had hot red flames on them. Now he was on his way to see Amanda again. She hadn’t asked him to come by, but he thought it would be a nice gesture. He arrived at the club, and walked in. Inside and outside was a completely different scene than the other night. Alex looked at his watch…too early he thought. There a bartender puffed on a cigar. He looked around looking for that enchanting bunny who had done so much to his senses.
He looked at the people in the room, all preoccupied with their work, getting ready for the night ahead of them.
Soon a large man became suspicious of Alex, and came waddling towards him. Obviously, a stupid bouncer, Alex thought.
“I’m sorry sir. But this place don’t open till nine at night.”
The bouncer said to him. Alex looked up at his dumb face, and then at his chest where he saw two tits protruding outwards. Without taking off his sunglasses Alex said, “I’m looking for a girl named Amanda. Do you know when she gets in?”
A little intimidated by Alex’s surprising energy, the bouncer backed off after telling him that Amanda is probably working right now.
Alex coolly dismissed the bouncer, and took off his glasses to
scan the room once more. A woman wiping down the tables of last
night’s party and mayhem turned her head up when she heard someone say Amanda. She wasn’t sure of who she saw standing there with such ridiculous attire on, but then thought to herself, “why, is that Alex?” After all he was one of her customers that she actually thought was kind of cute and fuckable. They all were just average Joes. She walked over to Alex who was still scanning the room, even when Amanda came very close to him. Alex noticed that a woman was standing very close to him, but still could not recognize who it was.
“Hi.”
“Yes. I’ll be out in a sec; I’m just looking for a friend of mine. Actually maybe you could help me find her. Her name is Amanda, and I think she is a waitress here. The bouncer said she’s supposed to be working this shift…”
“Hi Alex, it’s Amanda.”
Alex did a double take, “Amanda? Hell, is that you?”
“Yup.”
“Gee, I feel dumb. Wow, you look different without your costume.”
“And the makeup probably.”
“I was just wondering, um, maybe you would like to go out for coffee sometime. I wanted to talk to you after that night, but I really had to get to work.”
“I don’t know Alex…that’s not really my style.” Amanda flirted back.
“Here I brought you these,” Alex took out the flowers he had bought and handed them to Amanda. Amanda grabbed them by the stems which were warm from Alex’s clammy hands.
“I guess I should have coffee with you now,” Amanda said, “why don’t you meet me after work?”

Alex left the club, too excited to go home, so he wandered the streets in a sort of daydream. He passed the downtown shopping district and stared at mannequins and the beautiful people that cruised the boulevard after dinner. He walked into a toy store and took the escalator up to the second floor. He looked out seeing yellow taxi cabs lined up one next to the other, stopping and moving, stopping and moving. He pictured a city full of love, and full of so many different stories. So many different tales to be told, so many lives were being lived, each different, and unique in their own way. Alex thought of this only when he looked upon large crowds.
He felt like God at that moment as he gazed upon his people and guessed at the lives each one of them led. He wished he could hear, and live them all. He saw couples walking down together hand in hand, eating dinner together, and Alex pictured himself with someone and what it would mean. To be with someone…it takes a lifetime to really get to know someone. And when we’re really old, and our characters and quirkiness have lost their momentum, “what then?” But to continue and try to figure out each other and see how we click together. Old flesh drying up like raisins, unfamiliar world and machines making unfamiliar sounds, finding out old reaches don’t get new goods. Learn new phrases new ways to behave and to progress if ever possible, instead of drowning in the toxic pool of dying, dying, places where capitalist societies place the elderly. Seen as bingo refugees and burdensome troubles….very similar to us notes some, “they have mouths, and asses like we do.”
Alex walked into the club again, a cold shiver fell upon him as he gazed upon the scene. He couldn’t wait until it was time to see Amanda again. He remembered that night when they were together, after the blowjob, he had passed out. When he woke up, Amanda was lying next to him even though technically, her time was up. She lay there smiling, her hand grasping a glass of water and giving it to Alex, as he held onto the cup with two hands, drinking quickly.
Alex didn’t know what to say, he didn’t feel high anymore, but could still remember the lingering affects well enough to slightly feel the marijuana.
“How do you feel?” Amanda asked finally as she brushed her hair.
“Good. Have I been sleeping all this time?” Alex asked.
“Yeah,” she laughed, “I wasn’t sure if you were okay or not, but
then I heard your snoring, and so I curled up beside you.”
“Thanks for the water.” Alex remembered what he had done the previous night and twitched his legs.
He got up, naked, and put on his boxers, searching his pants for a cigarette. He lit it, and blew smoke out of his mouth, tasting the first cigarette of the day mixed with the delightful flavors of morning breath. Alex smiled, “now Amanda, will you tell me where you are from now?”
“I was born in England, so that makes me English, I guess. I came here to work and just when I had lost all hope of finding a job, I landed this.”
“Do you like it here?”
“I know, I know. I thought the same thing. A stripper? But we
had this really good manager who trained us, and became sort of
a godmother to us. The other girls seemed like naturals. By the end of the first class they were adding their own improv dances and twirls, while I was fumbling about.”
“Don’t worry,” Alex said, “you did fine.”
”Thanks,” Amanda said rolling her eyes.
“Who thought of the bunny costume? Was that your trainer as well?”
“Yeah. She let us choose our own names too. But I liked my real name, so I stuck with Amanda.”
“Well that’s a very fine name, Amanda.” Alex said with a smile.
And didn’t really know where to take the conversation from there. He wasn’t sure if Amanda liked him or not, or whether she was just doing her job.
“I like you a lot,” Alex said, “and I really mean it.”
“Oh you do? Thanks, I usually get that after I spend the night with someone.”
“No, I really do like you. I think you’re incredible.”
“Ahh, touché, my friend.”
Alex didn’t know what he thought anymore, as long as he was close to her, things would be fine. He moved his face forward to kiss her and she kissed him back, slightly in love, he pulled away and sat on the bed.
“You’ve got a great way to ya, my English beauty.” Alex said.

Alex had spent an hour in the toyshop thinking about what had happened between him and Amanda last night, and decided it was time to come back to the club. He was lucky that Amanda had decided to work the early shift and clean tables, because she would have gotten out even later if she wasn’t. Alex walked to the club and met Amanda who was standing on the corner, beautiful as ever. Nothing was said as they walked side by side down to the diner. There were lots of people inside, but they quickly got a table where the last patrons had ate only minutes ago. They said they didn’t mind if it took some time to clean up, as long as they were sitting down.
Not they were together, alone. Face to face with each other forcibly, and the confrontation, thought Alex, was scarier than he imagined. Luckily Amanda broke the silence.
“I remember one time that I was here with some girls of mine, and we tried to order some food, but they had run out of everything! No mayo, no chicken, no ketchup. Hell you can’t eat home style potatoes without ketchup!”
Alex just smiled and played with his silverware. He didn’t know
what he thought anymore. All of a sudden the brutal reality hit
him. He had thought he really liked Amanda only after one night
of her pleasuring him for money? What was he thinking? Perhaps
he had tried to fool himself in the middle of the night, he had
tried before. Mostly his relationships with women were some kind of an expression of a link from bonding on such common grounds as closeted homosexual urges. Once he even wished, during intimacy, that the woman he was sleeping with was a guy. When he told this to a friend who he felt he could trust, she was sickened, not by the fact that he fantasized about guys, but by the timing. She explained how selfish it was for him to do that, but Alex never fully grasped it.
“Imagine someone sleeping with you, while the whole time, this other person was running through your partner’s head.” She retorted. This made sense, Alex thought. But still, he didn’t seem to understand why.
“I think you are beautiful,” was all Alex could mutter, “you’re like a rose in a desert.”
Amanda laughed at this, because it was all too cheesy. The flowers, the comparison of her to a rose…she began to feel awkward and a strange sullenness fell upon her at that moment.
“Excuse me,” she left, still trying to stop her laughter. She walked over to the restrooms. Inside she leaned up against the wall and thought about Alex with his charming prose with no one to charm.
She took out the hair clip from her streaky blond hair and held
onto it with her teeth while she rearranged her hair. She reached into her makeup bag and took out the lipstick, carefully unscrewed the top, and applied a smooth coating onto her lips.


“hahahaha!” Laughter came from the dining room table where Walt, Sam, and Joan sat. Sam poured himself another glass of wine and then sipped it in delight. Walt sat there twirling strands of pasta on his fork, and coughed into his napkin. Joan and Sam swapped stories about work, while Walt was busy ignoring them. After much patience, Walt got up from his chair and put the dishes in the sink. Joan and Sam also got up, went to the stereo, where they laughed at Walt’s CD collection. While Walt was loudly washing their dishes, Joan and Sam managed to agree on a CD to play, and started dancing.
“Come on Walt, put the dishes there and dance with us!”
Joan shouted above the music. It was an old Genesis song, and Walt rolled his eyes behind their backs. Seeing that Walt would not come to dance on his own will, Joan stumbled over to him and put her arms around his shoulder. “Come on Walt, let’s go dancing, shall we?” Walt didn’t answer her, so after a moment she turned around and started back towards Sam’s way. “Suit yourself,” she said while she brought a smile back to her face and walked quickly over to the stereo.
“Suit myself? Suit myself!? Fuck you Joan! How do you think I
can suit myself when you’re acting like a damn whore!” Sam and
Joan were both startled by this, and Sam instinctively turned the volume down. Walt had thrown one of the plates across the room, smashing it into the balcony door.
“I had better get going,” Sam said quietly trying to dismiss himself.
“No! Sam you stay. You are our guest, and you should stay. If
anyone should leave at all, it should be Walt.” Joan said.
“Alright Joan. I’ll leave if it makes you feel better about yourself.”
Walt briskly ran out of the room and slammed the door behind him. Joan surprised at this, went over to the wine cabinet and poured herself a drink. “Dear god, what have I done wrong?” She muttered to herself. Then she called out to Sam, “Sam? Sam? Come here, I need to talk to you.” But Sam was already on his way out, trying to chase down Walt. He ran down three flights of stairs and barged out the front door. On the left of him he saw a man walking briskly away and around the corner. Sam’s feet flew to chase him, he almost tripped a couple times doing so while calling out Walt’s name. When he finally caught up to Walt, he placed his hand on Walt’s shoulder, but Walt quickly slapped it down.
“What the hell was going on inside there, huh?” Walt barked. His face red with fury.
“Look, I’m sorry Walt, it’s just that…”
But Walt was too angry to let Sam finish his sentence.
“What do you think you’re doing here? Can’t you even get a clue? I’m trying to start things up with Joan again.”
“I know Walt, I’m very sorry, but…”
Again Walt interrupted, “I’ve been getting no sleep at all for the past couple of nights, staying up and thinking about how lonely I am…I need Joan, Sam. Can’t you take a hint?”
Sam was now mad himself, “can’t you take a hint Walt?” He barked, all the emotions came rushing from inside himself. His face lit up like fireworks. An intense feeling came to him almost knocking him off his feet, but Sam managed to keep balance somehow.
“What do you mean?” Walt asked.
“Jesus, Walt!” Sam did a one eighty turn, “the flowers,” he paused, “they were for you.”

Amanda came back to the table where Alex had just told the waitress that they needed more time.
“What would you like to eat?” Alex asked.
Amanda, bored with the question told him anything and they both
looked at the glass of water in disgust.
“Well, I think I’m going to get some waffles.” Alex said.
“Suit yourself,” Amanda said, yawning.
They sat there for about ten minutes until the waitress finally came and Alex ordered his waffles, and Amanda ordered some dessert.
To entertain herself, Amanda rubbed her legs on Alex’s and stared at his face while Alex looked down nervously. None of her clientele had ever taken her out to dinner before. Hell, they had never even returned the next to see her. She never expected anyone to anyway, but now that Alex had come by, she questioned why they hadn’t. She saw herself living a life with Alex, getting out of the work she had gotten herself into, leading a different life. No. The thought of being stuck with one man for a long time would be agonizing, Amanda thought. Yet Alex had this way about him that made Amanda feel special. Sure he wasn’t like the guys that she was used to, but she could manage. Another thing she realized, while they ate their food in silence, was that Alex expected her to talk. While
this was nice gesture, it made Amanda uneasy because she
wasn’t really used to it. It was an awkward relationship from the beginning, but as it grew she began to get used to it, and even liked Alex’s mellow personality. They would go for walks in the park, and then back to his apartment where they ended up smoking pot and watching Steve Martin movies. She had quit working at the club and got a job as a waitress at the diner they had their first meal at, and she even took night classes with him. She loved him more and more and the two of them bonded immensely. Though Alex never really had any intensity to him in a large crowd among guys, he had a definite intensity when he was around her. She found that Alex would focus all of his attention towards her, and their relationship when they were together. She would talk about things that were on her mind for as long as she wanted, and when she thought she was boring him and paused from her talking, he urged her to go on.
She grew in those days, in many, many ways. Her confidence grew as a whole, and her aura, her aura was immense. They went to art shows together and she became involved with her paintings. Everything deserved a stroke of the old brush, she thought. There were just too many things to draw, and not enough time in the day.
Alex had never been so happy before. Every moment of work he would be thinking about her. He was so glad that his bed was full of warmth and love. She gave herself to Alex every night they were together, and Alex would find himself utterly exhausted by love. She was like a goddess that appeared from nowhere. A sudden god send, where the light shines on her all the time. He hung on to her every word, and took pictures of her, and told her that the camera was invented for women like her. He felt so good with his life. She was a treasure, an angel. And at night underneath the sheets, he would roll his eyes with pleasure, and his whole body would tremble in delight. She made him feel so good he wanted to cry. His body felt extremely light, but solid at the same time.
Afterwards he would plop in his bed, with her cuddled up against him and just shine in sweat from the afterglow. The nights seemed like forever where they just enjoyed each other in between the sheets, every moment captured in Alex’s mind, interspersed with moments of disbelief.
That night Alex had a dream. He was walking on a bridge when he spotted a man who looked absolutely amazing. The man whispered something to him, but Alex had to get closer to hear what he was saying. Alex waited for the cars to slow down and finally stop, and he made his way across the street. The cars sped up again when Alex reached the other side.
“What did you say?” Alex asked.
The man just looked at him and smiled. “Do you remember me?”
Alex looked at the man and did recognize him, but had no idea where he had seen him before. He reached out a hand but the man shook his head. Instead, the man walked towards him and hugged Alex.
Perhaps this is the point where Alex would jerk his body back and run away into the crowded streets, but Alex held on to him like dear life, and made love to him on the side of the bridge, while everybody watched. After they had made love, the man gave him a gift and told Alex to hold onto it until he came back.
Alex woke up in his bed, a bit startled and sweating. He got up and poured himself a drink in the kitchen.
The sky was dark, but it was approaching morning, so Alex got in the shower, got dressed, and took a walk outside. He saw people sweeping the sidewalks, pushing dust and trash with straws on their brooms. The evening holds a secret, it is only shown to those who stay up all night, and see through the myth of the life we live. The day and night will still go on no matter how stupid we make life, Alex thought. It’s as if there’s someone out there yawning at us, shaking their heads, laughing at our experiments. It surprised Alex that God had not blown up this horrendous place with a giant meteor. And then it started snowing.
It was a wonderful sight. The snowflakes fell from the sky one by one, and then too many to count. Everything seemed very quiet when the snow fell. One would imagine it to be very loud, but the quiet snowflakes make their marks with hardly a sound. It fell on his hair, on his arms, on his back, and Alex took it in. Alex sucked in the air, closed his eyes, and fell sideways against a building. Alex’s eyes were closed, he could only see the mysterious man on the other side of the bridge, whispering, but again, he could not tell what was being said. It is there that he passed out, until Amanda found him, while on her way to work. She called the ambulance, when she felt how cold his skin was.
Alex hated hospitals. He hated doctors, he hated nurses, and he hated dead people, because he was jealous of them. Alex wasn’t sick, he was just exhausted. He loved lying in the bed, sleeping, and not caring about anything. He loved not being bothered. He looked out from his bed, not really eyeing anything, thinking about the world. The TV spoke softly and Alex drifted off into sleep again. They gave him pills, he felt drowsy. He could feel his legs again. He forgot pain, and relaxed in an elegant stupor on the bed. I want to be like Peter Pan, Alex thought. I never want to grow old.
Amanda rushed in after going to work and getting the day off. The nurses escorted her to Alex’s room where he was being monitored closely. She walked in slowly, and saw Alex’s poor state, and knelt by his bed. She was the one now with the roses, and the poor metaphors, but Alex didn’t want her to talk so much anymore. He wanted to drift off, and became a bit violent when she wouldn’t stop speaking.
The nurses let her out and told her that Alex needed his rest,
and didn’t mean anything by it. Amanda sat in the hallway by the room, curled up in a chair, and had her eye focusing on his door, waiting for it to be opened, waiting for Alex to walk out of there his old self again.

“Pour me another drink sir,” Sam bellowed at the bartender. Sam
was drunk already but slammed down two, three more shots of vodka, before he came staggering onto the middle of the bar. He just couldn’t sit still while he was drunk, and didn’t understand people who could. Sam looked at the TV screen and saw people were doing karaoke on it. He stumbled over to the person with the microphone, grabbed it out of his hands, and sang into it, completely drunk and wobbly.
“I like women who are pretty and enjoy getting fucked by a man,” he shouted into the microphone, and then laughed in the silence that fell upon the room. It seemed like all of a sudden the world had grown and slipped from underneath his feet. He didn’t have much of a standing anywhere, he felt alone when people didn’t understand his jokes. He picked fights with people, lost his job, and lived in his brother’s house. He lost every fight he picked because he was too drunk to raise his fist. He was too drunk to go to work, all because no one understood his jokes.
Sam seemed to lose his humor too. He got violent when people looked at him strangely after coming from a bar, he growled a lot, he didn’t want to just fade out and die like everyone else. He liked staying up all night, and wanted to be young again. He didn’t know what to make of the world anymore, and slept the whole day every day, and got drunk night after night. This became his routine. It was sad, yes, but soon, it got rather funny to Sam. He suddenly felt happy one day coming home from a bar. He didn’t have to work, he could sleep in the whole day, and then get drunk at night. The next night when he returned to the bar, he was smiling. He hadn’t picked a fight in days, and he really did feel quite good. He came up to the bartender, “Hey bartender what did the faggot say to the other faggot?”
“What?” the bartender growled.
“Can I fuck you up the ass?” And with that he roared, and fell
on the floor, after ordering another drink. The bartender just smirked while polishing a glass with a dish towel. He then apologized for his crude comment, and started tap dancing. But believe it or not, the crowd in the bar took a liking to him. After all Sam was a pretty good dancer, and the girls loved it when he did his impersonation of Elvis. Sam was a hit. Soon the word got around, and people from all over the bar scenes, came to this one, to see Sam. Business got great, and Sam got free drinks. There was stage built for Sam, and they even incorporated opening acts. The real show was Sam though. He would come out with his routine and make everyone fall
on the floor laughing. Sam had his way with the crowd, he seemed to know exactly what to say in the mic, and shook his legs around when dancing, and insulted people in the crowd in good humor. The place went from being close to broke, to being packed everynight. There is something interesting about seeing a businessman entertaining.

Sam found himself in those days. He drank and drank, and got on stage everynight to perform. He gave it his all, when he was drunk up there, screaming, laughing, dancing, telling jokes…
“Ladies and gentlemen, I have a story I have to tell you.”
The crowd died down to a whisper.
“One donkey is you know, walking along the side of the road, just minding his own business, right? While this horse in a nearby field eyes him, and comes trotting over. And…”
Sam’s eyes blurred a bit, he stumbled a bit on stage, and then regained focus. He had not slept in days, his mind and body completely exhausted. He was fooling himself by thinking he could perform tonight.
“So anyways, this horse comes along, and jumps over the wired fence scaring the donkey a bit, right? And the donkey’s like, ‘hey, what’s up?’ All confused about why a horse would run across the field and jump over a fence, right?”
Sam made jumps and leaps on stage like a ballerina, and then shook his body as if he were having a stroke.
“So this horse goes, ‘not much, donkey, what’s up with you?’ And before the donkey could finish what he was saying, the horse,”
Sam’s eyes blurred again.
“The horse, he hops on top of the donkey, and sticks his giant horse cock right inside the donkey’s little asshole, making the donkey scream out!”
The microphone stand vibrating, fell over, crashing to the floor.
“This donkey, you know, he doesn’t really want to have sex with this horse, so he tries his best to shake the thing off him, right? But the horse, the horse is strong and wraps his hooves around the donkey’s body so that it can’t get away.”
“And this horse just keeps on pumping his cock into the donkey’s hole, all the while the donkey is screaming out and trying frantically to shake the horse off his back. But the horse is too strong, and when he finally comes, he lets out a moaning, neighing sound while he shoots all of his jiz into the donkey’s hole.”
Laughter came rising from the crowd. They laughed at him, an annoying drunk, tell vulgar stories, and dance around, seriously committed to his art at all costs. Sam laughed at the fact that he managed to pull off effortlessly a story that was running in his mind, and his laughter overfilled the whole room, almost drowning out everyone else’s. His head hurt, his body weak, and a sickening feeling began taking over his body, as he fell over like a tree that has just been cut down. Landing with a thud, his body jerked a couple of times, and in front of the audience, puke dripped out of his mouth, spraying the floor, and leaving an intense odor. Chunks of vomit lay there on the stage, as the people in the way front, left their seats, and clambered to the back of the room. Sam’s eyes closed, as he passed out to the sound of people making noises of disgust.


In the hospital, nurses, and doctors were frantically treating patients, running around with emergency situations, all dressed in pale green, or clinical white. The paintings on the wall were all non threateningly dull, the colors of the paints all warm and cozy like a kitten on a pile of blankets. The staff answering calls and dealing with people all had curls. There was a long line. People sat in waiting areas with their legs crossed, reading newspapers. In urgent care there were people with cuts, bruises on their eyes, casts on their legs.
Fingers were bandaged, wounds were licked, cuts were stitched, reuniting broken skin under discrete lights.
Nobody was happy in a hospital, everyone was sick, and hated the service. Expert doctors ran around flirting with young adolescent girls. Nobody knew what happened behind closed doors, behind closed curtains…
Alex liked getting his blood pressure taken. He liked the tightening of his arm, and chest, as a nurse on the second shift squeezed the ball shooting pressure in his arm methodically, and then releasing it, letting his arm loosen again.
“125/60,” the nurse said.
It was always a number. And the nurses always said it in a dead tone, so nobody can ever tell if the number being read was good or not. You had to go out of your way and ask them politely waiting amidst more suspense.
Alex was being released later on today. He didn’t know how he felt about it all. He was glad to be away from this drab of a hospital, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to see Amanda again.
The TV set displayed images of men playing baseball. Alex’s mind raced as he was being handed his last plate of food before he left. Sure he liked Amanda, but he began to realize he had hurried into things too quickly. After all, Alex thought, she was my whore. She sucked my cock, as it shot out wads of cum, and she licked it clean with her tongue for cash that I paid her later. It was a pleasure doing business with you…the pleasure was all mine…
Someone grabbed their crotch on television, and Alex felt his dick swelling up underneath the blankets. He thought about men. They held their bodies a certain way, they thought about certain things, they were important people. Very important. They were silent in locker rooms, naked and swinging their gigantic cocks in front of each other. They dried themselves off with towels, and rinsed their cocks with soap. Men held it in, and Alex wanted to let them out.
He didn’t know what he would do with Amanda. She liked little things, cute things, being nice. Alex found out that being around her was more straining than he had previously thought. He began to notice that he was putting on an act in front of her. He felt strange hanging out with her after he got out from the hospital. He could feel the sharp pains in his chest each time he noticed an attractive man walk in front of his vision. At night, when they had sex, Alex thought about other men, sucking his cock, and him pleasuring other men. He thought of his friend’s words after they had sex, and he felt even worse. Alex lit a cigarette outside, and froze while he stood there. He thought nothing was worth it. Life, work, play, sex, food…nothing seemed to be worth the price tag attached to it. He became distant with Amanda, sharing less and less as the days went on. Meanwhile, Amanda thought she was in love, disqualifying his moods, and his strange behaviors. She was thinking about moving out, starting a family, living together in the suburbs, like everyone else, so she could be normal, and he could be with her. She didn’t care if he was silent all night, the fact that he was there with her was good enough. So when Alex proposed that they break up, Amanda was deeply in shock.
“What? Are you serious, Alex?”
“Yes,” Alex said in a quiet whisper.
“But, I thought everything was going good, I mean, this is really shocking to me.”
“Yes.”
“What?”
Amanda didn’t know how to take in the information. She held her breath, her body shaking violently, her eyes closed. Information. She wanted to hit him, square in his ugly face. The face that she saw almost every night since he went to the hospital. The face he made as he came inside of her. Then she remembered the way he distanced himself from her, and his quiet spells, that seemed to be more than just a day long. She remembered the last time they made love, his mind seemed to be somewhere else. But she couldn’t tell what was wrong. He had said nothing to her, and she never bothered asking.
“Well, what’s going on? Do you want to talk about it?” She asked eagerly to find out what was on his mind.
“I’m just not very happy, that’s all.” He said.
But it didn’t make enough sense to her, crying, she ran out of the apartment, and slammed the door behind her, leaving Alex sitting on the bed facing the empty space Amanda had occupied moments ago. Alex felt like a jerk. He fell on the bed, paralyzed, and anxious about what he had done. Had he made the right choice? Was it all in his head? The voice of his friend came back to him, and this time it made sense.

Sam left the hospital the same afternoon Alex did. He was brought in with a couple of people at the bar after he had passed out. The doctor told him not to drink anymore, and that he was severely damaging his liver. They showed Sam pictures of what happens to the liver when someone drinks too much. The dark spots surrounding the organ were sickening. He was killing himself. He didn’t think that he was killing himself, but after thinking about it, it made sense to Sam. Sam realized he was losing it. Or was it all in his mind as well?
After Sam had told Walt that he loved him, Walt punched him in the face.
“Never speak about that night to me again!” Walt said to him sternly. His eyes red, veins popping out of his forehead. “It never happened,” he continued.
Sam had sex with Walt, and fell in love with him, but to Walt, the night never existed.

Both men’s lives were somewhat shattered. Sam stared at beer bottles and cursed his liver, surely one beer couldn’t hurt. But in order to perform, Sam had to get more than just one in him. The people at the bar started wondering where Sam had gone to, when Sam did not return, things settled down to how they were before they set their eyes on the funny drunk. Sam walked down the streets again, because he had decided that it was time to think about where he wanted to go, and also what he wanted to do. He walked down a street where there were lots of people, lots of shops, many customers, and couples huddled over sweet presents, and warm coffee. Sam looked older and bitter, he walked with his hands in his pockets, eyes red from exhaustion. He kept on walking with his eyes looking straight ahead through the smiles, and the hugs, and quickly made a sharp left turn at the intersection. Sam walked and walked, and ended up at the sea, the end of the island. He looked out ahead, seeing ships, and the statue of liberty afloat on the body of water. Sam smelled the sea air, and watched seagulls fly by dashing the blue sky with a touch of white. He found a bench slightly hidden by some bushes, and fell asleep there.

Days and nights went on. Sam collected money from strangers, and his brother. Bought food and cigarettes. He slept in alleys, and on park benches. The thought of Walt would always come to his mind. That one night he spent with him, in his apartment. A seemingly innocent event that has turned into the end of their friendship. He didn’t have a job, he didn’t have a place to live, and his one love disappeared when he had him in his hands. Sam got up from the trashcan, and climbed up a tall building through the fire escape. He rushed up in a hurry, tripping on steps here and there, and cursing, shaking the iron railing with thumps from his feet. Each flight seemed to be exactly like the one before it, nothing to distinguish one from another, except for the articles placed outside the windows. There were plants, and clothes, and flags, to make it more interesting, Sam tried to notice all these things on his way up. He made his way up the stairs faster than he’s ever moved in his life. After about the twentieth floor, he went up two steps at a time, leaping his way up.
When he reached the top, Sam shivered a bit because of the windchill, and he panted heavily with two hands on his knees, bending forwards. He walked towards the far east side of the building. There was a door in a little shack, and Sam opened it, seeing a flight of stairs. He kept on walking forward until he reached the end of the building. He looked down, and saw a dizzying sight of cars and people out of reach, all stubbornly human.
“Ah!”
A startled cry came to the right of him. Sam turned around and saw a young man who was hugging himself, trying to keep warm also on the edge of the building.
“Don’t mind me,” said Sam and he took out a bottle of vodka from his jacket and drank about a quarter of it.
The young man watched Sam drink his liquor. Sam saw this and smiled, downed the bottle until there was only a quarter of it left and handed it to the man.
“Thanks,” the man said while taking the bottle from Sam’s hands.
“What? What are you doing?” The young man said as Sam stepped at the edge of the building.
“I’m enjoying the view from here,” Sam said sarcastically, “what do you think I’m doing here?”
There was a short pause and Sam started up again, “there’s only one way to go from here, and that’s down.”
“Then I’m going with you,” Said the young man. He walked up to the edge as well, a couple of feet apart from Sam.
“No, you’re not.”
“No?” The man shouted back, “What makes you think you can stop me? Why do you think I was up here in the first place?”
“Oh Jesus,” Sam said, “you weren’t going to jump from here too were you?” Sam relaxed his body and stepped away from the edge.
“I can’t do this anymore. Here let me help you down,” Sam said extending his arm to help.
“No! Stay away from me, or I’ll really do it!” Said the man.
“Listen to me kid. Personally I don’t give rat’s ass if you go flying off this building smashing into pieces, but now that we’re both here, let’s just get down.”
But the man wasn’t listening to Sam anymore. He had his eyes on the scene ahead of him, and leaned one leg as far as he could.
“Kid!” Sam shouted and the man lost his balance, wobbling back and forth, until the momentum in his body gave in, and he fell backwards, landing on the roof. Sam rushed over to him and knelt by his side.
“Come on. Let’s go to the diner or something and talk this over.” The kid put his arms around Sam’s neck and started crying. At first Sam was comforting him, but then he too started crying.
The two men made their way down the rickety fire escape and got in Sam’s car.
“My name’s Sam.” He said as he turned on the engine.
“Nice to meet you Sam, I’m Alex.”







Sam drove down street after street, seeing blurs and quick dashes of traffic and pedestrians. He felt oddly normal, as if he were just taking an old friend to the diner where they would eat together and talk. He just remembered he had drank all that vodka and was starting to feel sick. The doctor’s words were coming back to him, he wanted to throw up. Instead he illegally parked on the side of the street and passed out, hitting his face on the steering wheel. Alex was worried, “Sam, Sam, what’s wrong?”
But there was no response, and Sam continued lying there, still as a corpse.
“Shit,” said Alex. Alex stepped out of the car and ran into a store.
“Someone call an ambulance please!”

And soon everyone saw the flashing lights, as the ambulance came roaring onto the scene. Pediatrics picked up Sam, put him in a stretcher, and settled him down in the back of the ambulance.
“Wait, I’m his friend, let me go with you,” Alex said, and he too hopped in the back of the truck. The nurses were being busy hooking up tubes and patches to Sam, Alex could see his erratic heartbeat displayed in neon green flashes of light on the monitor.

They got to the hospital quickly, Alex watched as the ambulance dodged traffic, avoided traffic lights, blazing through downtown like some important official with an important agenda.

They got to the hospital and quickly dismantled Sam from the back of the truck, through the double doors, and sped to the emergency room. From there on, Alex could only wait patiently in the designated waiting room. He stared at magazines and noticed couples huddling together on the seats. A couple people decided to stretch out on chairs, taking naps. Alex got up from his seat and made himself a cup of coffee. He sat back down and tried to read. He soon fell asleep, but was awakened by a doctor shaking him. Alex immediately sat up, “is Sam going to be alright doc?”
The doctor said behind a smile, “Your friend Sam is going to be fine. He has a liver problem, and this time he really drank too much. He’s a good man though, I ran downstairs when I heard that he was in the emergency room, where they pumped his stomach and everything.”
When Alex didn’t say anything, the doctor continued, “why don’t you go home and get some rest? We’re going to keep your friend here tonight in our care, and he’ll be out by tomorrow night.”
“Alright,” Alex said, “can I see him before I go?”
The doctor was reluctant, “I suppose so, follow me.”
Alex walked down the corridors of the hospital, past the doors with signs and windows, under the auspicious white lights. Alex followed the doctor into one of the rooms, and saw Sam lying on his bed with his eyes closed.
“Alright kid. We’ll give you a couple of minutes.” With that the doctor and the nurse stepped out of the room and closed the door gently behind them.
Alex walked closer to Sam, circling his bed a couple of times slowly. He put his hands on Sam’s forehead, and kissed it gently.
The TV was on and it was broadcasting a baseball game. Alex put his hands in Sam’s and became entangled in a trance. Such beauty lay before him, blessing the mattress with its mere presence. Sam’s face looked familiar, but Alex couldn’t quite put his finger on who he was, nonetheless where he had seen him before. Alex let it go, and held Sam’s hand before leaving. Alex took a cab home but couldn’t fall asleep despite the fact that he was exhausted. He laid on his back looking at the ceiling, wondering about the day, wondering about Sam, thinking about Amanda. He got up from the bed, went to his kitchen, and poured himself a glass of water. When he returned to his room, he turned the TV on, and fell asleep to the end of the baseball game.




















Alex met Sam at the hospital the next day. Sam was already cracking jokes and in a good mood when Alex came. The staff joked with him, while Alex watched at the side. When Sam noticed him, he excused himself from them, and walked over to Alex.
“Um listen,” Sam started, “thanks for saving my life.”
Alex gave Sam a big hug, and they walked out of the hospital.
They decided to take a walk in the park where the air was good, and the plants were in bloom.
“So there’s this meeting, that I’m going to tomorrow night. It’s an alcoholic’s anonymous group, and they made me make an appointment with a shrink for next week,” Sam said.


"Good for you! I'm real glad to hear that." Alex replied.
"Maybe you should you know, try getting some advice or something," Sam said.
"Me? No. Everything's fine with me, now," Alex said a little unsure of himself.
But in a way, Alex was alright. He had survived, and even felt the best he's ever felt in awhile. Alex looked up again, to the turning head of Sam's, and both eyes met with a smile and a smirk.
Sam and Alex walked in the park the whole day. They went from the east side, all the way to the west side, stopping for the flowers in bloom, and even a boat ride on the little body of water.
The boat was elegantly decorated, with fragile wooden arcs, resting on the sides of the boat. The woodcarving of angels was so delicately and precisely done, that it hypnotized even the most common blue collared man. Alex and Sam sat down for tea at a table suited for two on the deck of the ship, which showed the gentle, cozy side of the park. With people out on leisurely walks, and bouncing joggers jingling by, the loudness of their panting muted by the distance and the din of the ship. Somewhere perhaps, they drifted inside their easy and loose conversation that seemed to carry itself. Sam and Alex walked around the ship, and let the wind blow in their hair as the boat ceased to a whispering rest by the shore. A little melancholy followed thereafter as the sun was beginning to set. The temperature dropped slowly, as lights lit up the city, and Sam and Alex wandered out the park.

Middle Eastern cuisine by candle light. Moroccan blinds, and menus in perfect penmanship underneath shiny plastic covers. The room mostly dark and intimate with various artifacts and priceless junk hanging from walls. The outside dining area was already set underneath banners and signs. A woman on the fourth floor opening a window in her two bedroom apartment.

Alex sat down at a table outside with Amanda sipping on their ice water, and both uncomfortably awkward with one another.
"So, thanks for meeting me here," started Alex.
"Yeah," said Amanda. She had dressed for the occasion treating it like a regular outing.
"I suppose I should say something," Alex said.
"Oh, go ahead."
"I'm really sorry for how things have ended. Amanda, please don't feel hurt, because I never meant to hurt anyone, especially you."
“Oh, it’s okay, don’t worry about it,” Amanda said with a smile, “everything is fine, Alex. Thank you.”
The waiter came and spoke accented English, with black hair slicked back and a moustache beneath his nose. He took their orders, noting their fine choices on a pad of paper, and swiftly left with their two menus.
"I would like for us to be friends," said Alex.
"We could do that."
"Really?"
"Yes, I don't see why not," Amanda said, "honestly, yes, breaking up with you was hard. It took some time to accept it and get on with my life. But now I'm doing fine, and wouldn't mind being friends, no."
Alex was thrilled.
"Who's the guy you're seeing now again?"
"His name is Carlos. He's from Puerto Rico, but grew up in New York."
"How are you two…"
"We're doing great! To put it simply, I'm very satisfied with our relationship. We have really good sex," she laughed, "and we're like best friends too."
"Well that's wonderful."
"Have you been seeing anyone recently?"
"I have indeed. You know the older man Sam I was telling you about?"
"Yeah, I think I remember you mentioning the name at some point."
"Well, we've been going at it for about a month now."
"That's good. How are things going?"
"I'd say things are going good."
"There's just something about older men, isn't there?"
"Yes," said Alex laughing, "I think I do know what you're talking about."
Soon their dinner arrived on shiny, hot, white plates. They ate their meal casually and in a joyful mood.
After they finished, they left the restaurant, and stood outside together. Amanda looked over at Alex who was fumbling around his pockets intensely for a cigarette. He finally pulled one out of his pockets, without taking the whole pack out, and reached into his other pocket for a lighter. Amanda noticed his hair muffled up, his cap covering the top of his head. She was mad at him before, but most of the anger had melted away, and the rest was disappearing too as Alex turned to face her, smiling, after a brief silence.
"Listen, Alex," Amanda said, "thanks for dinner."
"Oh, you're welcome. I'm really glad you came to meet me."
Amanda spotted a taxi cab coming their way, and she put her hand up in the air waving it to the curb beside her.
"Well," she shuffled her feet, "time for me to go."
Alex gave her a long hug, "goodbye Amanda. Keep in touch."
"Yeah," Amanda said, "I'll call you."
She got into her cab, leaning forward to tell the driver where she wanted to go. As the car left the sidewalk back into traffic Amanda turned to the window and waved at Alex who was standing outside the restaurant smiling. They looked at each other for what seemed like a long time. And then, the car drove on, and Alex disappeared from Amanda’s line of sight.

Alex walked down the street with hands in his pockets. He made his way past all the people, and the stores. He arrived at a theatre where he was to meet Sam for the evening show. Before going in the theatre, Alex suddenly stopped. He looked back and saw the street that he had just been walking on. All the people walking, talking, and being with each other beside shop windows and street lights. He stood there looking upon the scene for a long time. Alex thought again about all the people in the city, each one with their different lives. He truly wanted to live every single one of them, and wondered what it would be like. Oh, all the stories to be told! How grand it all is, he thought, how so wonderfully grand!


Alex turned his head back, and sighed. Through the windows on the door, Alex could see a beautiful lobby. The floors paved with expensive looking marble looking like it had just been waxed and polished. A giant chandelier hanging three floors up with dazzling white lights. The theatre staff dressed nicely in tuxedos, standing like statues, or pouring drinks behind counters. Everything inside was all lit up, and alive with energy! The stairs, covered with a gorgeous flowing red carpet made it's way to the front door.

















Slowly,

Alex opened that door,

and stepped inside.

instruments and stuff to purchase

electric guitar 100 bucks
amp 100 bucks
effects pedals 75 bucks

acoustic guitar 100 bucks

keyboard 300 bucks

drum machine 150 bucks

perhaps simple drum kit 350 bucks

total $1175

yikes yo

areas that could be saved: electric guitar, acoustic guitar

so that's around $950 all together than

still a lot and I still haven't started orientation for work which blows

the seven wonders of the WWW

1. Google.com
fast and efficient all around search engine. but that's just google itself, there's also google images, google maps, and google earth even where you can pinpoint any location on earth and see it's surroundings in 3-D! It really doesn't get much cooler than that. One not so great thing about google though is the google books component. It markets itself as a search engine for online e-books, but 99percent of the time you're going to come up with an e book that is non readable and will feature only a chapter or two at best. Perhaps in the future this will change, and will make Google truly the supreme sight of the WWW.

2. ihatemusic.noquam.com
an elite online forum where the world's most dedicated music fans gather and discuss music. you're not going to find a site where discussions of the most obscure, rarest, yet coolest and music releases and also films and books get discussed in a serious manner with a collector's mindset. it is also a great site for news information about underground music events as well as film and print related events. membership is free, registration is open to the public.

3. gmail.com
part of the google components, but this one is so great that it deserves a ranking in itself. gmail is the best email client out there. the design of it is far superior than yahoo and other email clients. to say that gmail is convenient to use is an understatement. these guys and gals thought of everything that could make emailing fast, efficient, fun, exciting, and easy. truly the best, though invites only, you have to know someone who already uses gmail in order to get invited.

4. pitchforkmedia.com
another music related site. though controvercial since it started to get important, it truly is an all around buzz site for the latest in underground/indie music. though sometimes the ratings are extremely harsh, and there seems to be editorial staff who would die for anything but a cruel bashing of its reviews, the site maintains extreme stability, and is one the most popular underground music review sites there is. it also updates itself every single weekday and has been doing so for the past couple of years without fail. that to me is astounding.

5. ecstaticpeace.com
if you're in the area for long, this is the website to check out for the real local music scene. founded by sonic youth member thurston moore, this website is his record label which he signs various artists and also puts out his own releases through the label. though it doesn't get updated very often the content itself is of impeccable taste, and will usually feature a show listing a day prior to the event. unlike anything else, truly.

6. amazon.com
wow. you can buy anything on this website. from money printing machines to japanese noodles! delivery is fast depending on location and the item, and returns are easy to make if you decide to return something. though the site was originally known for it's books, it has expanded to infinite categories and will have the newest technology out there. when the nintnendo Wii was hard to find, amazon.com had it. go to this site if you're ever wondering where to get that brand new iPhone or digital camera.

7. make your own website!

who knows your website could be one of those sites that really capture the moment in terms of convenience, marketability, and user friendly graphics that would make the site, "one of the 7 wonders of the WWW". Trust yourself, know what you are doing, make sure you read plenty of web code and ideas on how to generate a great site, and think of something that you would like to see on the web but isn't out there yet. this is a great project for inventors who can sit there and think of something that would be useful to the current market of products or websites. and with the convenience of today's web making programs, it's easy for anyone to make a website, the fun way!

literacy

since we've been talking about literacy in my online web journalism class, I've decided to post some poems which will be published in the Summer's edition of "Meat For Tea: The Northampton Review," a literary magazine pub out by Hampshire Alums!






SNORE: A collection of poemsssszz

My purple sky

In dreams of wire

And hand gloved majestic

Crystal silk and sheets of gold

I wind up sulking in the yard of death

Skulls come upon me like ancient scissors

Half of me will rise

And half of me will sink

I am glory misinterpreted

My handsome back sweats under the sun

I am coming to an end

You have a choice but no eyes

Like the death that whispers to you during the day

Yes those angry moments

When you’re alive, there is death

When you are dead, is there life?



2.

Feeling gloomy one day I trot down to the cart on the driveway

I look at the ripe tomatoes and pick out the best ones

Leaving a dollar fifty in the plastic seafood tub

I walk back thinking, the chemicals in my brain

Are making me feel like a distorted fruit fly

I need to drink clearox and fill my gas tank with fruit juice

My liquor soul wants to bend over and taste your death muscles

I want to eat your black eyes

My lines are all like worms in bags of gray sand


3.

Pink

Such a fabulous way to be lazy

And then 5 hours of static, insanity, whispering

Pink

It comes around

Half an hour of sanity, understanding, soft petting

More hours of people dropping dead

Going out and stinking like shit

Nobody has to work in the morning

We’re all trying to push our way up a hill

Nothing like the bitter drill

I need to thank the common man

For letting me take her gentle hand

And out into the light we go

A forest snow so putrid and cold

Mechanical animals drift in snow

You deserve it

More than I

The soft stone, the velvet benchmark makes me think, does I need to know this for later homework?

Do I need to give up and read about the careful thoughts and the broken eyeballs and haircuts?

The film is coming to an end

People are coughing and leaving their seats getting into cars and going home

It is raining outside

I am standing on the sidewalk

Waiting for a nightbus

4.

I don’t feel like shivering

there’s no more feeling within this world

I dread the way my body is

And how I must come everynight

I arrive tonight in a dress so pretty

Sit and stare at the ageless mirror

I decline your proposal everynight

And in the mornings I cry

I’m surrounded

It’s all around me

I can’t see

I can’t feel

I can only sense with that sixth sense

That one with all the rats

And the shit

I can see how my dreams will be tonight

I must go now

Into the woods

And never come back

We must leave

Together

We must leave

Together

And feel fine

And dance in the black and white sunlight



5.

Please let me to continue

Living a psychic reality

With physical and non physical trance

And ears like bunnies

Eyes like a wonderbar

Soothing relaxing waves of terror

Forever and soothing

My sex installation

But nothing is like what I like in this house

Plastic fake kitsch

I’m not perfect I’m more nonsensical

Non aesthetic

You



6.

Trapped again

Didn’t bum around cities the big city

Had no claims to space only claim to fame

Only ties to mother spider

My web of distortion blues

Random assholes calling me about nothing

Or just out of boredom

Sucky

There’s no light out that’s right

People are important

Must take walks and receive bitter end

Eyes staring like endorsed films

Slab of meat eat and shit

Umbrella when it rains

I think that I stink when it comes to reality

Must eat desire and fulfill the promise

I like cows that sleep

I like dogs that lie around

I must get this and that

Things must make sense a reality unreal

Like puzzle pieces inside

There’s a blue light a spot a front porch

Am I bleeding? I feel like I have cut myself

I think that animals can perceive things we humans can’t

So I guess I should feed them

Especially twice or three times a day

I’m feeling more optimistic

I hope that things go ok

I know I’m bending reality a bit

But if I could just join in and see

Through this dense fog of greed

And green

Then,

I can become one again with time

7.

myopic synthesis realizing green teeth
tongue in cheek flash dance
survive of the lamest red orange
personell like rivers and golden glory
silver bells and triumph science master slave no doze
winter oval liquor cabinet car snow nothing
never had that
ever to be built inside a nightmare house
traditional contemporary floozie shit for luck
no sounds my mind remembering friends' houses
trying to deliver a good line
and deliberately sink into jealousy running the last few miles
towards the pile of flowers and dirt, earth


8.

I’m lying in green grass

Meadow with blue sky

There’s a negative approach to my method

Birds hover in the air

I am faced with conundrums

Battleship, smoke, and fire

Bullets flying, mortar shells, deadly gas

That make your flesh boil

Humans crumbling into flesh cubes

pounding, neighbors pounding

beds creaking

I’m downstairs

Not in NY

Not a Ned not a dead

I eat and they have survived

And then I eat again

What if I don’t survive?

I must find a way to put on this jacket on even though

The zipper is broken

This frustrating moment

Repeats itself

And repeats itself

And repeats itself

And repeats itself

And repeats itself

And repeats itself

And repeats itself

And repeats itself

And repeats itself

And repeats itself

And repeats itself

until the screen burns a hole

And the picture ends

9.

Stumble I run and rise to the horror

Amplified sea waves and spinning on ice

The sounds are so distant and far but audible

The trees overlap the ground and the houses

I am the one who is always around

Besides the ghost of gnarlyism

Nobody’s here

I think that whenever I shoot ball

I run the court without eyes

And sink it in and go back to my typewriter

I am flesh upon flesh upon flesh

I’m terribly new at this

The winter storm compares none to the hurricane season

Washed up fish and dying daffodils

It stinks of treason and manure

Growing spikes and pollution from the ground

Pounding and rising to meet the sky

The blue sky

Up above with white clouds

A dome of hope

Rainbows and more rainbows and more rainbows

Zigzag the sky above the city of Prague

10.

To me, this is an equation

And it’s left me wondering about your scientific showism

Your boundaries and your hate

Make the world suffocate along with you

When you see beauty you crush it

Your hoaxes are rudimentary and beyond this world

You see people as lungs and legs

You don’t let go but sink your false teeth into rock

Making your mouth bleed onto ancient matter


11.

death muslces running down equator

fixes my eyes on hard steel

never known a grosser idea

but to steal the diamonds from you

in cavernous void, at the edge of town

women stumble in

men stumble out

curiosity makes me feel like a woman

I’m sending her in though

She feels as if she needs a moment

To breathe and collect

I laugh and point towards the entrance

When she goes in

I can see her dress folded up by the blowing wind

I imagine her crawling inside

When she comes out

She is a butterfly

I fake my bad mood

And punch holes into the moon

What moon? She says

The careful object that carves light in the darkness

Where moon? She says

I point up and finally she goes

Oh you mean the sun

12.

water is like that thing you need when you are thirsty

or you need to float over to the next arena

I like water when it is flat and filled and boring

I like the substance of water and seeing it through clear glass

I enjoy feeling it travel down my throat and into my stomach

Where it lands with a cold thump

A rush of joy fills my heart

13.

Just yesterday I saw a most peculiar thing

A ribbon waiting on a piece of wire connected to simple white string

There were rocks at the harbor and dunes

And wild flowers

I noticed it looked like it was going to rain

When I am out on the ocean

I like to think about the mountains and lakes

It keeps me calm and reminds me of other bodies of water

Like the wells in France

And the waterfalls in Jamaica

Yesterday I went outside to feed the birds

I noticed that they were all getting ready for sleep

I could hear them cry in the distance

And afterwards went back inside

Everything sprawelled in my room on the floor

I could hardly make it to the table without stepping on things

It reminded me of the sand castles and the organs at church

The pews and the undefying people

I witnessed unholy partnerships and

Incredible slavery

But now it seems that we must do to others

A lot

We must do a lot for others

And only have so much time for ourselves

I only want the treasures of the world

By a wave of my finger and getting the basket ready

For flying and landing merchandise

Flying on planes

Across land and sea

From doorstep to doorstep

It hovers over me

It hovers over me

I tend to break this bread with you

Now let me finish

One last thing

I cry and sleep

And dream

Like

Time

Sucks in the energy of the masked bacon

Farm where daughters sleep

14.

blocks of wood

and crying

my back aches like sandpaper

mistakes are made through glass lenses

pure is good and so is crystal clear

but not as hard as crystal

the glass is far superior at times

either when sharing a drink with friends or a book

Ghost - In Stormy Nights ($9)
Om - Conference of the Birds ($8)
Rhys Chatham - Die Donnergotter - the thundergods ($12)
Scott Walkter - The Drift ($9)
Scritti Politti - White Bread Black Beer ($5)
Six Organs of Admittance - The Sun Awakens ($11)
William Hooker/Lee Ranaldo - The Celestial Answer ($7)
Mirror - Eye of the Storm ($6)
Yo La Tengo - INAOYAIWBYA ($5)
Nina Simone - After Hours ($5)
The New Pornographers - Mass Romantic ($5)
Mouthus - The Long Salt ($8)
Nurse With Wound - Salt Marie Celeste ($10)
William Parker Trio - ...and William Danced ($9)
The Tower Recordings - s/t ($7)
Zbigniew Karkowski - One and Many ($10)
The Mae Shi - Terrorbird ($10)
Kevin Drumm - Comedy ($11)
Acid Mothers Temple - Iao Chant from the cosmic inferno ($8)
Anthony Burr/Charles Curtis Alvin Lucier ($15)
Ghost - Temple Stone ($8)
Ghost - Hypnotic Underworld ($9)
Deerhoof - The Runners Four ($7)
Burial - s/t ($9)
Akron/Family - Meek Warrior ($6)
John Cale - New York in the 1960s 3XCDs ($35)
Gary Wilson - Mary Had Brown Hair ($8)
Family Underground - Axial ($7)
Dredd Foole and the Din - The Whys of Fire ($8)
Disband - In Small Rooms ($8)
Current 93 - Thunder Perfect Mind ($11)
Current 93 - Halo ($8)
FM3/Zhang - Breathing Song ($9)
Li-jianhong (merzbow type stuff) - talking freely before the beginning ($9)
Can't - Prepares to Fail Again ($8)
Terry Riley in C Bang on a Can ($10)
John Wiese - Bubble Pulse ($10)
Haino Keiji/Toshida Tetsuya - New Rap ($8)
KK Null/Davivd Brown - Terminal HZ ($8)
John Tilbury - Cage Sonatats & Interludes For Prepared Piano ($11)
Jim O'Rourke - Remove the Need ($5)
Greg Kelley - I don't want to live forever ($7)
HOPPY Kamiyama - a meaningful meaningnessless ($13)

*****the following can be bought in a bundle together for $225*********
MASAYUKI TAKAYANAGI AND THE NEW DIRECTION UNIT:

-Axis Another Revolable Thing ($20)
-Eclipse ($20)
-Complete "La Grima" ($20)
-Dislocation ($20)
-Mass Hysterism ($20)
-The Dead (Si Ren) ($20)
-Flower Girl (Soft Version) ($20)
-Flower Girl (Violent Version) ($20)
-Independence Tread on Sure Ground ($20)
-Three Improvised Variations on a Theme of Qadhafi ($20)
-A Jazzy Profile of Jo Jo ($20)
inanimate nature live at jean jean ($20)
-live independence ($20)


*******************************

(continued)

Alessandro Bosetti - Her Name ($10)
William Parker & The Little Huey Creative Music Orchestra - Raincoat in the River Vol. 1 - ($12)
GHQ - Heavy Elements ($7)
Gunter/Hallwell/Wastell - +minus [first meeting] ($7)
Jazzkammer - Hot Action Sexy Karaoke ($8)
Jack Rose - Two Originals of ($6)
Jack Rose - Kensington Blues ($9)
Jaap Blonk - Flux De Bouche ($9)
Vertonen - The Ocean is Gone, The Ship is Next ($8)
Whitehouse - Great White Death ($12)
Mirror - Die Spiegelmanufaktur ($7)
Merzbow - Merzbuta ($7)
Matt Weston - Vacuums ($5)
Major Stars - Space Time ($8)
Major Stars - The Rock Revival ($8)
Loren Connors - Night Through 3XCD ($16)



Please add $1.50 for 1-2 items for shipping
and $1.50 for each item after that.

Please email me before you make a paypal purchase at underdasea78@gmail.com

Thanks!

MG