Sept 18

This morning there was a big storm coming.
They said it could last several days
I with nothing in the house
got up and
on my way I pass the military
brown housing compound
So bland I forgot what
I wanted in groceryland
the shelves were stocked with
generic brand products
everything
wrapped as equally uniform as
the neighboring residents of the base.
Wading with intention through the torment of
anxious people I managed to gather a few
key items to sustain me over the coming days.
Upfront it was a money madhouse, frantic payments being made every
which way.

Its funny to me what becomes apparent in such hectic conditions, how all the noise that at once seems to be overwhelmingly oppressive can slowly fade into the background, and even later perceived as silence. Just as the darkness can quickly become light, when dark is all you've got. Instead of me not being present it is my senses that abandon me, and everything runs automatically. Really, there's no need to build robots when we do just fine. Through the aisles I go, choosing products, maneuvering around the other malfunctioning robots as though none of this was even really here. I imagine that we are all in a black box acting out the space around us, defining its very existence by our movements alone.

Quietly my ability to feel the world around made its way back, though I couldn't tell which sense I regained first, I just suddenly heard a noise that surreptitiously
guided me to a quiet corner.
There the harmonica played an old man.
Beside him a discarded egg crate and a
bass waiting to pick me up and play.
Under the stairs we were sheltered from
time and fear
Things were blue and funky;
when I left it was 9 in the morning
Outside there was no storm, no sound
only sun.

I'm really rather tired now, I bet I'll sleep well tonight,not like last night.

Sept 16

Well I've finally made it up here. The place I'm staying is old, and frankly it looks as though it were abandoned, but its in incredible order inside, so what do I care, its the mountains. I went into town this afternoon, to get some grub. Not a bad place, some older people, a bunch of students. I'm excited.
On the way up here, Mom and Gramps met me at the canyon. I'd forgotten how beautiful it was, how clear the water is, how many animals live in the waters, how tall the cliffs of the canyon are, how long it stretches. I have always seen the canyon as some ancient causeway, pulling the energy of the universe through the rough layers of earth, but it had been a long time since I've walked that road.
Mom and I sat on high ground, reading, chatting about world events, looking out over the canyon. Gramps brought his fishing gear: a rod, his 'old trusty' bait (a small plastic Cheshire cat), and one clear box of water, with a shelf attached to one side. At the water's edge he set up camp, on a nice sunny outcropping. It wasn't long before he pulled up a gramps of a fish. Quickly and skillfully he removed the bait and placed the fish on the shelf. Gramps sat back in his chair and had a jovial and longwinded conversation with the animal. They both seemed to enjoy the afternoon, regaling themselves with decades of adventures and misfortunes. I’ll remember yesterday afternoon forever, watching Gramps be so happy. After several hours he threw the fish back, wishing him well and advising him not to eat worms. They can be hazardous for a fish's health. Right after Mom and Gramps left, there came a big thunder. I had decided to stay to watch the sun set, and as it set a flood surged forward. I ran toward the car, only to see a truck come rushing at me. I dodged the camper topped Ram charging down the canyon. Soon I was submerged and had to swim.
get low is what Gramps had taught me.
I pressed myself against the damp earth.
In this heightened state I could smell the on coming deluge,
the water and oxygen,
debris, all
rolling over me.
There were fish
trees
signs
flowers
clothes
birds
wood
sun
shadow
me
all thrown together.
The pressure eased
I turned my head
above me
a giant sting
ray of incredible
grace passed.
I finally let myself up,
the water was warm, and
at the surface I could
see
my car had
conveniently washed ashore. I did the breast stroke as twilight mingled, refreshed by the time I made it back to the car.