Whaddaya reading

Loon Lake  Doctorow  Among others Gaddis Faulkner Algren

the title didnt register  it was met with a dull expressions
the authors names skipped like flat stones across the undisturbed surface of their faces

Books Im reading books

from off to a side another said Never heard of it

Loon Lake

Yeah whatever

(whatever inflamed him) 

Cant say I recognise the names

Faulkner  You cant say

Oh yeah maybe

Maybe

Some cat taught in high school English aye  Yes  My sister read him she was better in school I copied her papers and turned them in Skated on that miserable class

You shined English

I took a C

He knew hed have to break the sheet ice at this lummoxs feet and let the cold black water swallow him whole

Huh

Hyperbole
                  If I was your teacher I would have failed you

Listening to your mouth I think you have  failed  a lot of people

Dont try clever
You can scarcely walk and chew gum
Id have held you back let you repeat Embarrassed you for the embarrassment you are

That dont happen no more  Education worried about my self esteem

Besides me  everyone like me  we would have fallen on you like a hobbled pig for slaughter

You think

   

he looked away from the Mickey Mouse who had insinuated himself into the conversation and back to the woman he was originally speaking to

Who are you reading

Its not really who rather what  Im reading romance and fantasy

You dont known the authors name

She aint highbrow  Not like you pretend

Im not talking to you

You ought to be  I ought to be all up in your head

Why

Youre not a threat

I know youd like to be

But youre not

So take your ball and go home

Im done   talkin   to you

the young man began to say something but he held his hand up flat in front of his face

Sheet ice

Ill break it

Not   hyperbole

the young man looked around  he didnt see anyone to encourage him or have his back

Bullshit man Youre bullshit

he backed away

then walked away muttering to himself

You dont know the writers name

Well like he said  Im not highbrow like you

And highbrow is knowing the author and the title of the book youre reading

The subject matter

Well  the names you said sound boring  I guess Id assumed what they wrote about would also be boring
They make any of their books into movies

A movie wouldnt do them justice

Books that are worthwhile are made into movies

I would agree  Some

The people you named are dead arent they

They are

Theyre dead
Then they have nothing to say to us  do they

Their words still talk to us  but it is unlikely theyll be splashed on garish theatre screens no fast and furious car chases gratuitous nudity  No

Then  what are we talking about

I asked you what you were reading
I thought it would be interesting to talk about then perhaps segue into other things

Segue

I did say  I thought 

I dont understand  seque

Again  I said I thought
But thats alright
 

                            Be well


he took his leave 

he walked away from the small gathering  again unfortunately recognising what he long knew
                                                                                                                                                           Beauty was a puddle
on a street after a good rain  attractive  refreshing  glistening  throwing up the trees or the skys reflection above it
but shallow  and soon evaporated  

1943,  Day-between-Two-Ts,  12  8. 15

1243,  Thursday,  13  8. 15

How did these two mutes commutenicate?

when he opened his mouth his English sounded awful to her island ear

their cultures and ways were unalike
                                                                and yet they went around and round at each other like punch drunk fighters
because they wanted their dissimilarities breached  silently vanquished  as they cleansed themselves in the blush and heat of feverishly realised roils of sex 

deliberate banquets of luscious lust  bitten broken lips  the taste of bloods warm salt   laid spread eagle

under daubing tongues

under rocketing gasps and quakes   shudders of sex

How? one might imagine           
                                           by slippery mutetitillation

  (originally Tuesday,  8  1. 08)

1600, blue moon Friday,  31  7. 15

--   Where you going now

What are you trying to outrun
Or run down

 

                               If its trying to escape why not let it go

Just   let   it   go

Because theres nothing behind you

Nothing  pursuing you

--   And what if I say I feel something is after me   or ahead of me

--   Then I would say feeling isnt suffice  It doesnt justify being ambivalence to what is right here right now 
In this very moment

                               

Here  And Now

Every moment squandered is irretrievable and later may foster regrets or misgivings 

I cant counsel you if you refuse to pay attention to yourself

Ultimately were talking about you

--   Are you suggesting  saying 

what I feel panting behind me   or leering before me

is me

--   Im not suggesting anything other than if you cant stop or pause
become aware of who you are

You cant appreciate the moment

--   No one is

--   Are you no one

--

--   Then
               thats good for me to know

                                                       

I wont waste your precious time
 

Ill let you

I can abide my own words

I can let go

2154,  Sunday,  20  9. 15

Paul Tillich  The Lost Dimension in Religion, 1958:  . . . every moment . . runs ahead . . . is filled with something which must be done or seen or planned . . . no one can experience depth without stopping and becoming aware of himself . . . Only if he has moments in which he does not care about what comes next can he experience the meaning of this moment here and now and ask himself about the meaning of his life . . .