selfish

I got someone's digits!

ya, when was the last time that happened

he was at my garagesale

he came early 

with another longhair don't care hippie 

I can't remember what he bought, 

but he came back for some speakers I'd already sold

He'd put his hair in a low ponytail by that time

and I was in rollerskates by that time

and I was sort of drunk by that time

so I complimented him on his turquoise rings

giant rings on every finger

each was so solid & big & pretty and all so different from one another.

Was that a mistake!

he took the opportunity to tell me about each one

longwinded stories

but I learned that turquoise has sex

I mean, it's sexed

I mean, it's sexy

but apparently, green turquoise is female and blue is male

so I learned something

which is always a fine, fine thing to do. 

He had hair down to where his brastrap would be

which is what we all pine-for

long, wavy, salt & pepper hair

and a tiny round butt on his chin

I'm Italian, he said, So I know how to do just about anything

I grew up in NY in the '70s, it was pretty out there

I'm a non-believer - he paused - I don't believe in anything, I'm a nihalist

I don't believe in age-barriers

or gaps

So we should party

but before he said this, he asked if he could pay $.25 for a bunch of index cards

I told him he could take them

so he wrote down his name

and as he did he said, I also have Penmanship

and I said, Well you certainly do

he wrote his number down

and his email address. He hasn't gotten "into" tweeting

So... Let's Party Sometime

and I said, ya

But, I don't know

I don't believe in age-barriers

or gaps

but the second he said,    I'm a nonbeliever

I thought, screamed inside

Well I Believe in EVERYTHING

but what I'd mostly be believing

is that this dad's-age-hippie

wants to smoke doobies

wants to rock out

wants to fuck

wants to give me some stories

wants to give me some turquoise jewelry

made in Albuquerque in the '70s

and I'm down with like 2 of these things

but I am not Pure

and I am not looking to be

       new friends

       because I am eternal selfish

chasttity

 will I ever be as pure as you?

I have had sex with over five million people

I could name them all on

the worl'd

on the longest paper

I could write a continuous manuscript

on a roll of parchment,

but does that change it 

but doesn't that change it?

filled with all of the sorries

doing the let me explains

urging the hear, here's whies

switch ears, I'll give another

moral blunder

your pink holes

in your pink head

there is always a you, you

and it is about you

but

we like it when

the you changes

and you are you a new you

and the you doesn't hold

to the things about me, you know

and I hold to me

and you hold me like me

like the millions have held

like I'm held in the millions more

It's we from the branches, inevitably

prettylittle 88 - 91

It’s we from the branches growing forth! I can go, I've resolved. You’re the best thing, you get me inspired to sleep. I really have nothing more to plot.

I love you so I work pleasant. I’m too happy to have anything to say. Climax I don’t want to live without, and we’re close for our bodies tend to be right now. Events denude you… But eye-contact and you still are really more pure & naturally. I took to deprive of time, with the afraid, remorseful, amazing something... We’re different now, and I know we’re speaking intensely, physically. I get to stare at myself, to strip at certain points things of which I’m sure; illness & depression uninspired in the mirror, all surface layers needed desperately. Nothingness after.

Avoidant the whole time, bare by erosion, with you and death and in need of pruning too, which is always fun. To strip you fully, showering, I can’t wait to look.

Land of forest, a deep breath and it relates. Keeping a mirror at my bones. As we pass by her eyes for a moment, I quote a pet, old and grimed: poking through every denuded woods, I can’t justify what I’ve done… I’m unafraid. Long since mossed over. I’m starving, you know. Depurative. I know well that I have a new grave and so it goes.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------- epilogue

O, how much I bathe! Caring, younger & younger. I'm killing the point, purifying me; I try not to be. Solemnly. I’m a purgative love, jealous but celebratory. In renunciation, inevitably. All the hope for me.