Well All Right, Then (3/13/81)

last night, after 12 midnight, i found myself in a very small room in a very polish part of town with an exclusively irish crowd. i mean irish. the type of irish whose grandparents say "Ay-Tals" instead of "Ih-tallions" and that's ok. matty mc D was one of them, drawing on a brogue i had no idea he could do. one night he's cookin' me pesto and the next night he's talkin' about his grandparents in ireland all living to be 100+ years old. yes, genes...did he realize, at any point during the evening, that he was standing next to a darling brunette who had the exact same profile as his? it was brilliant. and i forgot to ask him...anyhow, outside it was coming down. but no need for an umbrella - you'll just end up being made the fool...after ransacking the host's vinyl collection, realizing that the irish had rhythm and soul, and ingesting something called 'buckfast,' i shoved my hands into my pockets and decided to meet the dawn, eyes squinty, hair fuzzy. i was thankful it was not yet light out and thankful i had someone to walk with. we walked against the rain along the BQE, passing through a park with an irish name (Pat McCormack park????...where are my fact checkers by the way...) that reminded me of a budget prospect park with those arches/columns that run closer to coney island avenue and lefferts, etc...you know? he was walking fast but most people do compared to me. i suppose in that kind of downpour one doesn't stroll...although i don't mind strolling...perfunctory questions ensued, but genuinely, and he soon related a story about changing a child's nappies earlier that week and not knowing anything about changing nappies but really what's to do but wipe the ass and shine it clean?! you figure out all this stuff on the job, you know? i do.

i found herbert street and the night ended and the morning came and so did the afternoon and the rain continues and i have finally found use for this photo. sarah steele neé garelle would say "your pictures never show your face...you're always hiding...." ha! there is no face here, my love...just a familiar landscape, with a familiar tone, and a familiar message...one she maybe doesn't understand because she must understand and take me as i am now, and have been for years...not as that entitity 'sahara' whose tranquility she didn't understand as a 7 year old...but it's the same, just illustrated with longer sentences...the photo is maybe too literal, i know, but what to you want?!...although the grouch prefers and maybe expects nothing but darkness or solitude, it is of course the bursts of light and color that prompt and drive everything...everything about everything...i still maintain that i was me, then - when all i drew was rainbows. never a variation on the order of the colors. it was perfect - like mathematics should have been...the same wonderful line-up, and always ALWAYS beautiful. have you ever seen a double rainbow over highway 99? mm hmm. i maintain that this is where i come from, not that other place that doesn't want to 'celebrate' birthdays...i celebrate all the time, but quietly and when it strikes me...i celebrate you when i see something that reminds me of you, i celebrate you at my own expense via nostalgia, i chortle like a lunatic on the train if i think of something you said, i celebrate that i knew you at 15, or 8, or if i met you yesterday, i pray for your happiness and that you find him, i celebrate knowing that happiness of course comes from HERE (HERE) and pray that i can actually instill that belief in my core some day...maybe not today but...and today! today today today i celebrate today as the greyest of all fucking days the year has seen, the drabbest and the bleakest, the quietest, the MOST lonely of all days, it's just me and you, borjita ----- and i can do this wholeheartedly because i know wholeheartedly that while it is usually raining outside and in -- there is actually a chance of sunshine here.

most things should be done wholeheartedly anyway. please locate yours, playboy, and let it beat...................
beat.............
................beat..............(some of us have rhythm)...

without the heart there can be no progress. mark twain said that.