28.6.20


he liked visiting the apartment complex Gary lived in particularly at night the swimming pool lighting was left on until 10 PM when the pools were locked downClosed a pretty good fuckin indication that the pools were closedLights out!

he liked arriving after dark because of the coolblue light painted the courtyardsthe walls of the units bled softly up into the atmosphere
              on the pool patios or sitting on benches in the manicured courtyards were good places to blow a joint despite Gary crawling up his ass telling him he gets caught the police would want to know who he was visiting

That’s a fucking leap! Why would I have to be visiting anyone? The fence's at six feet, keeps the small kids out, the drownable ones, easily jumped by me and teenagers who wanna skinny dip or fuck in the pool.

Wha?

Yah. I’ve swam with them; and I might have had sex with an underage teenager after we blew a joint. If she was underage she didn’t fuck like she was underage – I’d use that as a defense against a paedophile charge – She fucked like a pro! Why aren’t you charging her with prostitution—really make the county, the system some doughHuh?

Jesus, Joe. You come around, you don’t go down to the pools, not if you’re stopping by me.

Fuckin uptight, Gary, man, fuckin uptight; maybe you ought to come down to the pools with me, blow a joint, get blown.
I’m telllin’ya, man, kids today are way ahead of the curve. Mommie, Daddy’s off to work, kids turn on the cable, throw on porn, they’re curious like we were, except our access was tamped – they’re products of their generation – can’t blame them. Me. I’d finger their parents and society.
Really need smut on cable?



Gary. I’m outside for a cigarette.

Don’t go down by the pools.

Yah, I’m taking a walk. Hate to fuckin’ stand outside yer place smoking a cigarette. Not cool. And smoking supposed to be cool, dig?

Yeah. I’ll dig you a six foot hole somewhere down the line.

You didn’t see Woody Allen’s Sleeper?

I did.  he deadpanned

Hey, you can lie to me. We ain’t sleeping together.

Go on. Have your cigarette . . you’re just having a cigarette, right?

Wanna blow a joint?

No. I was thinking we’d catch a flick, I’ll make popcorn while you’re gone. Then we can sip some drinks, a flick, popcorn.

I like the way you think.

I wish you thought.

Easy, Gary, I got lotsa bees buzzing in my skull.

Insects. Not thoughts.

That was an analogy.

Keep your anal to yourself . . have your cigarette, Joe, we’ll give it a go when you get back. I was thinking Gozu, Japanese crime horror.

We should get high.

On me.

Gozu, popcorn, drinks, high on you?

What are friends for? Scored some hashish. I gotta smoke that with somebody, not alone, difference between grass and hash.

Deal! I’ll be back.



walking past one of the lighted blue pool Joe thought he caught motionmovement in it real stealthy  agile   brown
maybe a chica  slender   jet black hair
impossible to be Japanese
though that would be a treat

he entered through the gate the while looking for a shadow or movement  he saw neither

maybe he just wasnt seeing what lies beneath the surface sowha if it was a pool whanot a transmission an image hiding its real self
                   the bees were busy maybe anticipating the hash he was getting ahead of himself

it was only water

he jumped in
               and underwater freed of gravity a liquid sky he did rolls and somersaults and twists flying had to feel like thisthough lighter and able to draw a breath
                                                    and underwater he transformed into an otter
                                                                                                     and as suddenly he was aware of another otter in the pool a female he thought but then he wondered if it was a different otter or if he hadnt split in twocloned that he was also the second otter but feminine

they played they complimented each other

in their headlong rushes at each other they veered at the last possible moment to avoid collisions  he recognised that the second couldnt be him he was erratic awkward she wasnt  she was sublime
she wasnt him
              then at a sudden he wasnt in the pool

he was not an otter
                    though the imagery of the playfulnessfeeling of elation stayed with him


he wandered back to Garys place




middle of the night he left

Gozu was a mindbender 

the hash enhanced it but it didnt need any help

Gary told him to use the spare bedroom Chill.

Nah, man, wanna sleep in my own bed tonight. Thanks though.

You’re your own man. Ya cool to drive?

Three hours of bullshit after the Gozu, I’m fine, a little edge, but little.

You’re sure.

Yah. I’m sure.

Be cool, brother.

You too, Gary. Thanks.



Joe went out to the pool again

no uplights

no coolblue water dark  reflecting the fourfive lamps above it

the water trembled for no apparent reason

the filter and machinery beside the pool were still just an electrical whisper  filtration on a timer

standing above the water he saw dark shadows moving in it under the surface  shadows which seemed to enlarge the pool making it deeper maybe hiding among reefs that looked like submerged waves starkly aeratedsolidified frothy and curling


he caught three large fish

he squatted in the grass beside the concrete apron gutted and skinned the fish  

he cut them into steaks
                         and walked back up to Garys place

he filled the Weber with fresh charcoal and began a fire 

the rising sun stole the beauty away from the high flames  then the smouldering coals

he rapped on Garys door

when Gary answered Joe asked Barbecued fish for breakfast?

Gary said Sure. Why the fuck not? I got some fresh fruit we can have with it.


they wrapped the extra steaks in paper and put them in the freezer

Joe didnt say he caught the fish in the pool

Gary didnt ask

Joe asked him if he wasnt curious about the fishabout breakfast fish

Man, I don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.

0837,  Friday,  20  3. 20
1622,  Sunday,  28  6. 20


Being a child is like nothing. It’s only being. Later, when we think about it, we make it into youth.
                                                                                                      China Miéville
if you arent reading what hes writing shame on you

When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child; but when I became a man, I put away childish things.
                       King James 1 Corinthians 13:11 OH FUCK NO if youre reading the Bible put it down and read Mieville

as a child he disagreed  had Mievile been writing he would have disagreed with him too determinedly he disagreed with Corinthians Paul was writing the city of Corinth was Saint Paul a pamphleteer

he had a place in his heart for pamphleteers  he thought the 85 published in New Yorks newspapers by Saints John Jay James Madison and James Alexanders were wonderful if youre reading The Federalists Papers finish them  then read Mieville

OH FUCK NO
               as a child he disagreed for he knew that childish things ought to be the arbiter

he thought the trouble in the real world was that difference in those men 

this century the trouble was escalating because the men who truly put away childish things and were bereft because they were joyless became cocksuckers sociopaths psychopaths who played power games and the men who didnt bought computers to power their fantasy games on huge plasma screens

he believed the penultimate idea was to have feet in both arenas and retain ones youth  black holes of detachment and possession yawned to either side of the shared spectrum which would exert their particular gravity or temptation  sickly event horizons shimmer

an alert manchild remembers and tries hard not to forget their youth and should be able to navigate the roiling midstream

he is equally wet as he is dry

what is wet and dry is their connotation


he leaned towards childhood
                               probably because his memory was long and vivid and his mother his mother a historian of sorts  was the best person to either deny or confirm his quandary 

when last he asked her if he was remembering or fantasising she cut him to the quick  
                                                                                          I’m old now. I can’t remember as well. You’re closer to it. If you remember it as a memory, given your spooky, as your father says, given your spooky memory, I’d agree with you before I’d trust my own.

Aw cut it ou . .
. . You cut it out! Do you remember me ever correcting you, saying, No, that’s not a memory?

I cant say that I do but I still call you and Dad to tell me

Stop then. What you've remembered as memory has been; why you remember them is beyond your father and I.

But, please, my memory’s shot. I’m lucky if I can remember what I had for lunch an hour ago.

Joe; my son, as your father would say, you’re on your own.     

1612,  Twosday,  17  3. 20
1558,  Saturday,  27  6. 20