You ain't never been blue,
'Til you've had that mood indigo.
Write, delete, write, delete. Something's wrong. Something's broke. I tried to tell a story, but it is all mangled. There are some things I am not able to write well. There are pictures I'm no longer willing to show. My mouth is filled with dirt.
It's just a moment ... have them all the time. It will pass. Here's something I wrote recently.
ReplyDelete"L'Amour avait passe par la"
for Frank O'Hara and Grace Hartigan
Where's
my painter? Who'll
collaborate with me
in the quest for new fruit. our Oranges. I heard
through the grape vine Grace Hartigan
loved Frank O'Hara even though he probably loved the blonde
on Shelter Island.
There's no Joan Miro anymore. Everyone's gone
digital. but Edward Hopper is always popular. And quiet.
While driving home from visiting the cavelier,
I'm sorry I was such a snoozing visitor though
some opportunities did arise,
my mind searched to find a way to tell you
“the streets were black and rainslicked”– only
with a French accent that skins the heart
like an addict's dagger -- a la Baudelaire or Rimbaud
definitely not ebony or onyx. More oil leaked
from a car with over 100K miles – a greasy rainbow beautiful.
Angelina Jolie, if you must, because we are in the moment.
I've been out of town, no internet connection (which was really good for me) I must catch up with the posts I've missed. I'm sorry to hear you are having a bad day...I sincerely hope it passes soon...not fun...
ReplyDeleteYes, we must always assume that the thing will pass. All things do, good and bad.
ReplyDelete