it mused aloudsaid I’m watching you. 

OhHellno 

           Ive been watchin youIm all over you youve nothing on me Im a voyeur par excellence 

he wasnt bragging 

since he first readlearned the word it appealed to him reminded him of voyager vicarious 

                                                                                             held a flame to his feet since a boy  he wanted to travel National Geographic taunted him but it wasnt in the cards  the family had too many mouths to feedtoo little time to recreate 

                              but when it presented he played or read 

reading cultivated his voyeurism 

a voyeur 

         nothing more than being observant aware HAmindful  he HAed because older he teased his daughter about the mindfulness apps she had on her smartphone which alerted her                    

   Really baby

Yes really Dad, I haven’t time. 

                                 no  she didnt   stretched herself thin  when she was a collegiate athlete he worried shed burnout she HAed him  You misunderstand Dad . this isn’t arduous . . it’s a lifestyle. 

                                                                                               Lifestyle 

he was observant 

                 could suppose being a voyeurarduously aware mindful was a sort of lifestyle he recognisedwas amazed by the miniscule overwhelmed by the overwhelming 

quit asking Did you see tha  began to believe things happened solely for his benefit 

                                                                                          reminded himself to be modest 

however viciously defended himself if called to taskhis preface You really want to go there  he asked once

Hmm a viciousvoyeur

   Sounds like a predator. it said

Yare still here

I said I’m watching you.    

2015,  Twosday,  25  10. 22

1154,  Twosday,  29  11. 22

Johnny Cash  I Won’t Back Down  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7LBYrDx_784 

Tom Petty  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5II-WnW9OJo

blue guitar redux

her blue guitar leans in the corner

against the stereo speaker

where she placed it

she liked as she used to tell him in bed after they made love how invisible fingers

radiating from the speaker held it stroked it strings played impossible chords

the guitar sounded so different

shed never be able to recreate that music  imagine or remember it

she said often the music was in accord to the music hed play during their lazy afternoons together

his imperfect scratched 78s the keenly-guarded refined 33 1/3s  and those raucous 45s

she loved the echoes in her guitar its reverberations slipping like snakes in its chamber

she loved how the wind moving through the house visited it too  

those days when she complained it was too cold and why did he have to have the house open  

and on those days when the house was too hot
and the overhead fanblades were desperate to have their go at it
and the days since
when she hadnt been there to complain

but he would imagine she did
imagine all the qualities of her voiceits timbre and tone

when she was elated

or distraught

when she was dreamy and contemplative

or singing with her eyes closed

all her persons he loved  and didnt  that she shared with him every moment they improbably had  

without thought hesitation  or reservation

they  figuring improbably  that they would always have
stretched across the wide warm gulf of their living together

and now the sound hole of her guitar seemed far far larger  for each and every day

they didnt have

he was jealous of her guitar

her fingerprints her tentarch orweretheywhorls invisibly etched onto its strings  

its frets and tuning keys

                         her oils and scent on it

they were gone from him

                     his midnight showers eroded them from his skin its streams of water deafening his ears so he couldnt hear his crying or feel his hot tears running down his face
deafening him
a reason he fingered
because he could no longer hear her       

hear her voices 
feel her touch

blue

      her blue guitar

leaning dusty at the speaker

near the albums and jackets and paper slips brittlely ageing  yellowing  without the kiss of sunlight

as he

without her kisses

warm touches

reviving strokes


blue  

1502,  Clover Sunday,  1  6. 14

STOPsomething inside him  it barked Write it down whatever it was he didnt want to cross it scribbled charred trees

        warily he looked about in n out not knowing if to expect commendation or derision

   hollow air 

                      maybe whatever moved on or was folded inabsorbed 

charred trees

it did resonate please him 

charred trees

ash flakes tremble 

                            pensee probing 

sifted by a tickling breeze

cant see the forest for the trees

hope they catch the bastard

   rolled off his tongue asif planted or memorisedmesmerised barked Willtha do                                                                                                         listeningtipped his head forward

hollow air 

charred trees

             phonaesthetics ably welcome to join the motley crew hes assembling to overwhelm cellar door  which didnt impress him since first he understood what phonaesthetics is                                                                      

0833,  Thursday,  8  9. 22

1039,  Twosday,  29  11. 22