People who get lost in overlapping sets of knownspace become known as Homo diaspora

not his sentence

who else but China Mieville 

Embassytown

knownspace and Homo diaspora triggered

                                              practical men use their women up until they have nothing left to give ugly

having nothing left like a battery spent theyhadthegoodsensetoexpire practical menif their woman havent died walk out

men in his family didnt divorce

they were widowers

there were more widowers than one could shake a stick at shake sticks at

it wasnt asif they shared stories or exchanged notes

                                                     it went without saying

life insurances collected

estate sales concluded

family homes sold

buffed up like brand-new shiny pennies

the world was their oyster

What to do? What to do? Oh, what to do? was their question

after decades of marriage it might be thought theyd lost a step decades of reasoned compromises pretty pleases or flat-out begging had effaced themmade them less legerity

                                                         that theyd misplaced their being light on their feet and strode like heavyfooted apes
                    Nah

they didnt remarry

                     “Fool me once . . “

their Knowing ameliorated them they knowingly took advantage of their widowership

they accepted naïve compassioncommiseration accepted their understanding not that they knew what it was to survive a spouse

           diligent divorcees two three four husbands  

fourfive year expiration-dates

their children seemed relieved that the old man was moving on not consumed with grief

but maybe they wouldnt have been if they knew Daddys game plan taking advantage of their widowership  coyly  knowingly leaning their sorry heads to filled-to-bursting breasts who relished their inside-track pissmarking their territory embracing them tight under sweet softly-admitted sighs

thats more than halfway there

a hand haplessly fallen to their lap

a thigh squeezed

a sniffa hoarsely emitted  Thank you

thighs trembled  Sex will salt away this deal  

knees kneaded part

awkward fumbling feigning out-of-practise fumbling

a deep considerate sigh

Goodness, you smell wonderful. the boys reply intimately

heads rise

throats exposed

soft pliantkisses at jugulars napes and ticklish suprasternal notches warm breaths You’re wonderful, understanding me.

their practised deceiving hand leaves their warm thigh

a chill descendsseeps into where their hand had been but before leaving a promise  a tender squeeze

their open mouths come together

a hand brushes her breast

hungering

heartbeats rising

skin flushing

You’re absolutely wonderful, thank you, thank you for your gentleness and kindnesses. a hand at her throat gripping it firmly

a soft begging kiss

accepted permission granted  a long soft openmouthed kiss  tongues intertwine like serpents mating

hearts pound theyre audible 

blood pounds 

I’m blind. 

           what proceeds is practically by touch

1331,  Sunday,  15  3. 20

1428,  Monday,  7  9. 20

Sergio Mendes  The Fool on the Hill  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lFO8UgM3YVU\

he had written for three months and only now was beginning to transcribe the pages  remember what forged the thoughts he committed to them remember moments that otherwise would pass into memory and only if a stone happened to be tossed down that well or kicked into a handdug hole would he hear the disquiet  have the echo tickle his senses remind him

                           to remember

he interspersed his memoir cut it like heroin with more timely pieces imagined adventures live and lived

                                                                                             he wasnt a shrinking violet

he didnt shrink from violence nor confrontation

if he had to write with blood  
                               so be it

he wrote like a lava lamp belched and percolated

                                                     Preeetty . .

                                                                       Pretty fuckedup man

1033,  Sunday,  15  3. 20

1541,  Sunday,  6  9. 20

Zappa  Hungry Freaks, Daddy  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s0JTNVkhyS8

I no know what you say.  Yoshi

Yoshi his mother-in-law is Japanese 
                                        he speaks too quicklyrambles and uses colloquialisms and slang

she cant follow his language 

she asks What you say?

hes tickled
            he repeats himself slowly and drops the coloured language 

theyve been playing this game since last century

he maintains she still doesnt understand him because she hasnt bought into the English language but why should she she and her eight schoolgirl friends speak among themselves every day conversing in Japanese

he didnt have eight friends let alone eight childhood friends

he could count his friendship on one hand

three to be precise

he was lucky if he spoke with two of them every six months

maybe he was squandering great gifts

if only they would write him back

Hell Yoshi had eight close friends

she was 90
            obviously her friends were a little younger a little older

whadafuck Remarkable bordering on Miraculous

I no know what you say.
                          then she motions the International evidently screwball sign turning her index finger pointed at her temple round and round and round Screw loose Joe

at least she had the good sense to motion at the side of her head away from him  

casually  subtly

0857,  Sunday,  15  3. 20

1406,  Sunday,  6  9. 20