Posted by cockeyed on June 9, 2005, at 21:30:22
Vowed to do my living will today but my power of attorney told me instead I will live today. So I went swimming at the end of my street. Across the rocks and algae to where the water was sweet as salt water gets. Northeaster's brought us new sandbars and I could run as well as swim and for the life of me I could not make myself grim. "Hey, prozac will do that..." to quote Clyde the Glide and I remembered him well tho he's not along for the ride. First met him in the 60's that's a long time ago. And I remembered a time that...terrified me, that's the word that fits just so. Fool that I was I got effen-four-effen, four effen effed, no napalm, no m-16's and I found myself adrift. So I went thru the looking glass on a nickel bag of weed, let my freak flag fly took a ride on a little speed and floated thru the daydream game in a chartreuse dayglow haze. God, life did not seem, somehow live, instead it was all strobe light and political jive. I remember navy phantoms haunting the town's airshow, blasting across the beaches turning trees to marshmallow.
And Dr.Kool was my shrink, ran the local candy store, just tell me what you need and I can get you more. And when there were panthers gliding sleek and black I was tranked 8 miles high and I learned to give back. Oh, I was Mr. Moonlight if you could meet my nominal price; but I sort of drifted off if you thought sharing was nice. Peace and Love, Peace and love, Peace and love in pink, but I was doin okay until the police got me to think. Hey, maybe, the right thing is really to narc, the drugs were too dangerous, and the dayglow went dark. Saw my local barber, got pocket-protected and pin striped and reported to an officer as was only just right. Only he didn't give a damn about crap like dope, he wanted the commies wanted to give 'em enuff rope. And I only knew marxists and socialist girls who were Westport socialites so my underground career just dribbled from sight.
So today I swam in the sunlight and it was all so far away, the "mute nostril agony", my attempts to betray... the boys in blue had better things to do especially when the Mets would play. Sometimes a flashback in blown amp fusillade will wake up a memory and there's no way I'd trade the me who can swim at the end of my street for the skid-bid scavenger so groovy and sweet...a smiling face and a stab in the back. and these memories are nothing but a mind poison attack.
[ I want to do this over because it seems so lame and futile but come to think of it that's pretty much how it was then. A cheap trick, haight Ashbury with abscessed teeth...like, o wow, what a bummer drag. cockeyed ]
poster:cockeyed
thread:510262
URL: http://www.dr-bob.org/babble/write/20050513/msgs/510262.html