Anais Nin reminded him pages thirtytwo through thirtyfour of her
unexpurgated diary revealed in Incest
not to protect
anyones ass although she did while she
was alivewhile many of her victims were alive
victims she was unmerciful in her assessments
but when everyones deadtheir
tongues are dead theyre at the mercy of
the diaryist the historian the gospel written by the victor the ones who didnt die during the conflict
Unexpurgated
on a books cover caught
his attention as did the 60s lurid glossy-covered True Detective magazines Who would kill a piece of ass like that
yakiddin me
unexpurgated uncensored that
made him think of church
he was prone to uncensored probably because he was consistently censored
at home and school
they seemed to think that they could
shut him up with punishments with school
detention no matter he had homework to do threats of suspension which he shutdown he was telling uncomfortable truths he told his teachers the Dean of Boys Howbout you stay home instead
then what they did was disregard
himthey wouldnt call on him in class which had he disrupted class would have given them grounds to suspend him
like he didnt see
that comingcouldnt figure it out
disregarded
maligned
of the two he preferred
maligned and particularly so when he
learnedhe had a keen way about him of discoveringcreating leads to learn who
maligned him
he made it a point
maligners prefer
their anonymity
being unidentified
or rather as he
said Theyre cowards Aint facing a lion if they dont have to Though eventually they will Kind of like forgiveness People think theyve been forgiven because
everyone has a short memory
his memory -- as his parents said
– was corrosively sharp and long he
had a lot of slights with which to contend
they werent facing a lion they had help scoundrels cant function without confederates
Nin wrote I am aware that I cannot catch up on my
writing
likely many sighed to her
admission
but that wasnt to say that Nin didnt remember
but that wasnt to say that Nin didnt remember
he was very sure she remembered evenif
she hadnt written it down
writers have
long memories
he couldnt keep up on his writing
any more than he could count his breaths
not that he would find that monotonous think sexual panting sleepbreathing satiated sighing snorting angrily shallow with expectation shallow with a hope for a long shot to come throughoptimistic determined when thwarted at ease while walking barefooted in the sandfeet
and footprints lapped by cool surf holding ones breath as a whale rises spouts and dives again exposing its
fluke identifying itself a hawks shriek
and dive the inside of a womans thigh
when her skirt splits as she gets out of a parked car
counting ones breath
isnt monotonous any more than exhaling
the bluedsmoke of opium
1227, Friday,
31 1. 20
1507, Monday,
13 7. 20
Jesus Christ Superstar What’s the Buzz https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c3LM2iQ8p7A