14.6.14



I . . . try to be artful . . . whenever entering a new piece . . .

I dont want to appeal  immediately  to the lowest common denominator as media does: 
If it bleeds it leads
or its familiar POP! moneymakers  those brilliant pearlescent maggots of Reality TV

(for full disclosure: except for occasional college and professional football games  -   
the Stanley Cup play-offs  --  I havent watch broadcast satellite or cable television in years)


I suppose this “entry” isnt too inelegant   
                                                                     theres no need of Mercedes–Benz foreplay

so  as is Our . . . what shall I call it: habit  too lackadaisical . . . our bent . . . style . . . what have you . . .
              Ours  is my pic and I   we adore taking walking-discussions . . . arguments . . . alignments . . . free-for-alls on topics that happen to crowd our endless and at times butting curiosities

shes my pic
Im hers
its a selfassessed acronym for partner-in-crime

together  people tend to recognize us as separate from the rest of the herd  and unless we walk past reflective plateglass storefronts and happen to cast an errant eye on its mirror  we rarely see ourselves through the lens of others eyes

their perceptions of us  frankly  are of no matter

they neither pique our curiosity or intrigue us         
                                                                                              we are simply who we are
there is no notoriety


this afternoon we decided to spend our walking-talking on the Bob Jones Trail

as I said  --  not sexy  --  no POP!

we followed its historic trail into the seaside community of Avila California
the trail runs on a berm that was excavated in 1873 for a narrow-gauge wagonway which was drawn by six horses
                                     the horses were replaced three years later by a small steam locomotive
it runs beside the freshwater San Luis Creek  where steelhead trout hopeful can traffic in either direction for spawning


we conversed

I had been stymied by what I thought truly existed
it wasnt necessarily an acronym I was searching for  --  I am not fond of them despite our pic  --  but I imagined there must exist a short derivative of it

as I repeatedly tripped over myself my pic said  --   Its called female genital mutilation

--   Yes  I know that  I imagined  somehow  here in America  there was something catchy or flippant which alluded to it  There is a lack of social engagement here over this torture 
and ruinous butchery

--   Ah  Better be careful  Some believe circumcision is barbaric

--   Circumcision I can address  Ive been circumcised  But I dont remember  So if it is as horrific  
a mutilation . . . why no memory

--   Perhaps youve erased it from your memory

--   Or  my tableau upon emerging was so scribbled upon there wasnt worthwhile room remaining

--   Youre so full of shit thatswhyIlovesyou

--   Quit trying to change the subject thankyouverymuchIlovesyoutoo  However female genital mutilation has too many syllables  It doesnt rhyme  Or have music in it
I might suggest shebob
after the notorious hebob
committed on Bobbit

--   You dont think it borders too closely or insensitively to sheshkabob

--   Sheshkabob  Clever grrl  Of course it does thats why I chose it  One can easily flash   imagine   raw hunks of flesh  shebobs or hebobs  skewered between colorful vegetables roasting over 
hot coals


Theres no telling the things that will past between us on any given day  Were a pair of priceless pics



2127,  Day-Between-Two-Ts,  11  6. 14