Here's some great paraphernalia from the mind of Richard Brautigan, who invented modern emo and impacted my mind with super-fine Watermelon Sugar.
I was dive-bombing the lower
emotions on a typical yesterday
. . . after
I had sworn never to do it again.
I guess never's too long a time to stay
out of the cockpit
with the wind screaming down the wings
and the target almost praying itself into your
sights.
August 30
It was snowing hard when we drove
into Los Alamos. There was a clinical feeling
to the town as if every man, woman and child
were a doctor. We shopped at the Safeway
and got a bag of groceries. A toddler
looked like a brain surgeon. He carefully
watched us shop at the exact place where he would
make his first incision.
With so short a time to live and think
about stuff, I've spent just about
the right amount of time on this
butterfly.
20
A warm afternoon
Pine Creek, Monday
I cannot answer you tonight in small portions.
Torn apart by stormy love’s gate, I float
like a phantom facedown in a well where
the cold dark water reflects vague half-built
stars
and trades all our affection, touching, sleeping
together for tribunal distance standing like
a drowned train just beyond a pile of Eskimo skeletons.
For Marcia
I want your hair
to cover me with maps
of new places,
so everywhere I go
will be as beautiful
as your hair.
One
of the bad things about staying at a hotel
is the thin walls. They are a problem
that does not go away. I was trying to get
some sleep this afternoon but the people
in the next room took that opportunity to
fuck their brains out.
Their bed sounded like an old airplane
warming up to take off.
I lay there a few feet away, trying to get
some sleep while their bed taxied down the
runway.
Tokyo
June 14, 1976
No comments:
Post a Comment