it started as just another hot day, and then the weight of the world replaced the sting of the sweat in my eyes

the joggers are back
as are the cyclists
and the flies
one of the latter
keeps buzzing around my
hands
as i try and bang out
this insignificant
note
useless attempt at
describing
what my days feel like
lately

i have this week been
threatened
by the learning disabled
father
of a learning disabled
street urchin
seen trespassing in my
garden
trespassing i say
subnormal or not
the hardened shell
of my blamelessness
offers no sympathy
while
the memory of my
autistic cousin beckons
as i search our
similarity

it was during the middle
of a three
fourteen hour day
stretch of kayaks
bugs
lotions
salt and brackish water
baths
and one hundred degree
plus heat
i lost eleven pounds
since tuesday
and now it s
saturday

i sit here among my
virtual
crowd of friends
the MC5
iggy's daughter
scene stars from
NYC
and LA
as the better part of
pennsylvania and ohio
swarm outside my
air conditioned
store front door
i hide inside here
sneaking out only briefly
to fetch my red note book
looking for reasons to
remember

if not for these little
trips
i could forget the
sun burns a total but
fading tattoo
reminder of the trials
of the last week and the next week

outside my door
the descending atmosphere
waits patiently
still and
accommodatingly
to wrap itself around me
once again
choking me
sweating me
wringing all sweetness and
moisture from rapidly aging skin
and increasingly intolerant
barking bones
summertime
and the naked dance
of the living

my friends play shows
burn down bars and
honky tonks
and call to let me know
when they will hit
my town
as i sit here
amid the pile of
new and used office supplies
aging kettle corn
and a sample for reference
of the dead biting flies
which tormented the
last group we took up there

funny
some enjoy the show
some overhear the moans
of my associates mid day
and ignore
and maybe not funny but
fascinating how
some will drive by
six to twelve hours of
shantys, row houses
poverty and goats
in the street
just to reach the resort
and
never
question
the eyes they pass to get there
i
have always found
at least interesting
the juxtaposition of
the ideal to the
absoluteness that is
the life of the poor
and the ignorance
of that inequity
by the affluent
the
callous and gratuitous
nature in the
exchange between
the purchasers of dreams
and the sellers of flesh
no penance
no acknowledgment
of the true cost of
the life of
one human being
and the sacrifices made
to provide the whimsical
with the feeling
the experience
of the lived

none
save the children of the
poor and burdened
shall know the
worth of this
assignment

that clarity given
to the bottom
the one on the
crumb
who see the truth
in that discordance
between traveling
class and
water bearer

maybe i write these notes
in an attempt to
never forget the
weight of that
basket
or the faces of those
on the side of my road
or the fact that the
only true distinction
between president and pauper
between doctor and waiter
bartender and drunk
is lost
gone since the moment
the stars aligned and
the many sets of these
twins were born
and were then scattered
separated by the
boastful hot breath of humanity