themechanix

it starts with a ring
the number displayed means
the person calling will hang up
when i say hello. but not before.
merry xmas nancy, i answer. the calling
party disconnected, just like i knew
she would, the drone female voice
informs me i will not be charged
for this call.

my children are out.
my child lover out.
i have read all day instead
of writing. now i have a bit
over an hour, or maybe more
to spin my mind out here.
have a hit.

they say that by not fighting it
we condone it. speaking of teen
actions which most times leads
to life failure. not in the sense
of a failed life but in the sense
of an ended one. b/c idon't believe
in failure. you are what you are.
this is your life. how it happened.
who is grading this paper? didn't we kill god
so many years ago for just this reason?
oh relativistic crap sez the fundamentalists.
fun.da mentalists don't want to think.
einstein was a quack. they don't believe in quacks.
who cares what they believe? i'm tired of them.
their narrow little mind views boring
tunnels down thru thousands of layers of sediment
and they still can find no sign of the martians.
why, look around you man!~ 360 degrees of magnitude.
if only we could go spacier...no ups and downs
ins and outs? wieghtlessness? oh, r u feeling
naseous. does the pov move too fast?

ok, so i'm orienting on the whatever it is i'm trying
to deflect with this. cioran said "every thought is a thwarted sensation"
six words that changed my life. and to have been able
to write that down. we budhists say live like the lake
when it's a mirror. or something like that. but i'd rather
be the reed. have felt that once or twice. ssw paisely's
spinning in the air, i'll call them mesons, cuz i like
the word, without the benefit of psychotropic drugs.
i've never tripped beyond the wild weed so there's not even that he
told me i don't know if you should
try lsd, you're already so wacked.
i loved him. i didn't know
him.




he should forgive me that.
but since forgivenss is at the core
of his denial...like a force
of wind exerting outward, the blue hole
pushing cold water into us as we
hold our breaths and plunge into its
delicate evening blues the pressure
to stay away from its center.
we could put on weights, get scuba
gear. but mysteries
are destroyed when pierced.

and if you believe that
then listen..

there is a program which will give you a symbol
of the number you think of. it seems to read your mind.
it really works. becuase it's based on mathematical
principles of nines. nines. nines.


what number will both 3 and nine go into which its inversion will not.
no. that's not write. anyway. the key is nine.
i don't want to get bogged into the slog of shining numbers
each leading me deeper into the phi.

so i think my point was this. the mystery of the mind reading
is seeminly solved when you get to a symbol that repeats.
but what is it about that symbol which recurs? if you want to understand
source, look there. it is of course much more complex and n dimensional
but there is the gateway. dive into that cavern if you will.

the light in the kitchen is hurting my eyes. i think i will soothe
that sensation with action beyond the actualization of these manipulators.


got up, moved my legs and arms. now it is dark in here.
the xmas tree is lit behind me. if i carne my head
i can see the green light of daytime but in here all is dark.
now i have my solitude. now i have my retreat. what do they
call it? hovel? the recluse's home. watch out for my poison.
it can be potent. nancy was bitten once. it gave her an ulcer
on her shin, a bruise which festers and grew as if an arrow
was making its mark one layer of cells at a time. brown spider
of the evening, hope.

lately when i ride in the car, everything is flat.
even when you drive. and i wonder where is my wonder.
i k now what lies ahead and i want to know why i have
to do this over and over again and again. to be your
shadow. your mirror. these are questions. i hate the shift key.


where is my life. i had friends once. now i wait
for you. make plans with you and then you
break them. on a whim. without consultation.
then the deed is done. oh well. i didn't want
to lay around all day fucking anyway. would rather
write. or make cookies. no, i like to make them
with other people. my kids for instance.
which i gladly got out of the house to be with you
and now you're gone too. o seshat it's lovely
we will always in some way, be friends.

i can extoll the measure of love in bits, byten
into the neck of desire. let me let something
else be the focus of my deepening solitude.
why have this man be my world? he is what he is.
testing loyalty like a cur. heedless of what i am
to him. his once reason for living soon to be
cast aside, as i wish to cast him even now.
how much easier to let it go, be adrift in a salt
pool of detached couplings. the area of the novel.


nothing to look foward to. nothing to keep me from
sitting here all day and typing about woe.
this is why not to write. dis en gage ment.
thwarted act ion. he's out playing
and i'm writing. why am i beating my favorite
lover? i love the shift key again.

it is because without other, we spiral to the center.
and find it chasming and constricting. the air tanks
running out. the porch needs straightening. there
are photons out there. squirrels. hawks.