K

College of Cement

un vo ca re bu por fa

you give back what you get and
you get back what you give and


by Reptily

For each medication, a signature facial expression

Woke squinty,
left chemically
unblinded in/
during sleep

eyes rolly from
action fashion
dreams where
i spied and

pleated, won
they put my
heart in a tiny
box where it

could bang free
but it seems
they want me
to sing tenor


by Peg

Croak as in frog

is that the first
bird or latenight
chirping piss

i hear one side
of the fold or
the othern

melatonic wave
roll onto arm
aching so

do not put
me on my
back, i shall

croak as in
frog, lay as
a fog lays


Ilyn
"State of Illinois"

suburban homo party

RE-CAP: draft

On July 4 weekend I was the houseparent and one of the rich kids stood on the porch with her round ginger face looking in through the picture window with a sparkler crackling in each fist, and I decided to remember that as a mental snapshot forever. During the “Rock Around the Dock” event, she and a boy were the only ones not splashing and swimming. She just held onto a post and let the boy be inappropriate with her underwater, for which they got caught.

When you get caught at something you have to appear before the whole-school council in the big room with the sliding glass doors. There are kleenex boxes everywhere for crying. It’s encouraged that you act out your feelings for the group. Say a manager is upset. She stands up and starts crying, maybe stomps her feet. There is a box of kleenex on the chair next to her. The school director might point at it and suggest, “Throw the kleenex box, Roshanna. Throw the kleenex box.”

Sparkler girl had to kick herself “off campus” as a consequence for fucking in the swamp. Going off campus until you earned your way back on just meant that you moved into some faculty’s cinder block studio apartment. One huge new faculty, an ex-pro baller, showed up in a navy Impala with a spray of bullet holes all along both driver-side doors. Sparkler girl stayed in his room, but then he got fired-fired when she tested pregnant.

The most handsome faculty was a guy with a dull affect and an attractive, penis-like face. He chose the most handsome boy, blond with a dull affect like his own, for special visits in his room. He never got fired as far as I know. Everyone was so stunned by their handsomeness it seemed right that they would steal themselves away and be intimate with respect for their skinny blond privacy.

Getting fired can mean either you are fired-fired or more often just kicked “off campus.” Except you already live on campus, so instead they just stop paying you until you earn your way back unfired. I wanted to be a team player, so I fired myself for drinking a six-pack of wine coolers and driving over the median out on the main highway.

I could still participate in events. On the next “Rock Around the Dock” day I watched Sparkler girl get run over by an outboard. Why always her? She was so engaged in life. I was the one to call for help from the boathouse phone, but I did not get unfired for that. At the hospital I could see she had a big chunk out of her leg from the boat propeller. I asked the nurse if she could have a Valium but actually wanted one for me. Even when I waited all day and drove her back with her bandages, and it was a big homecoming, I still did not get unfired. I sat in the wood paneled gathering room of the girls dorm waiting for our meeting where clumps of faculty and rich kids would sit petting and cooing. We would probably talk about how somebody didn’t take responsibility and cop to their attitude. I was the most arrogant faculty, for example.

The quietest faculty, who just wanted to get paid and not make waves, and I took a big aluminum canoe to check out Bird Island. It stank and was covered with white heron and their white amoniacal shit splatters. It was like a white-frosted green cake with white flamingo pins sticking out all over it. Then we paddled over to the Swamp Tree Forest and floated along a channel of clear water like a ride at Disney. There was a high-pitched beeping, and then little bulging eyes. Baby alligators stared at us among popping water bubbles, floating on wood, in nests of dry moss. We decided to get out of there. I let the silent faculty paddle me quietly and looked at his back thinking I wish he could be my brother, plus sex.

That night the loudest faculty came into my cinder block room for tea. In the group meeting he had already thrown a huge temper tantrum, which was appropriate, so he was still getting paid. He was so passionate about everything. He started getting more and more physical and actually popped a couple buttons on my shirt. That shocked both of us enough that he went back down the hall to his studio. Everyone assumed he was gay.

We drove the students in our personal vehicles to Ft. Lauderdale. The other drivers noted that I had not been driving long, that it was not yet second nature to me. I agreed. Later sinking to my ankles at the length of 4-5 station wagons out into the waves, I looked up and down the long white beach, and I was the only one in the water. I had been watching with fascination a disturbance half a city block out to sea. It started as an inflatable raft flapping its borders, but it soon became a giant manta ray thrashing with a shark the size of a Karmann Ghia.

And now all the students and staff were standing on the beach waving and pointing and screaming, and they were looking at me. What they were pointing at was a fin in the water coming towards me. I ran in slow motion through the thigh-deep waves toward the faculty and rich kids. They cheered me on, and I was the focus of attention after that all day. The shark had to make a U-turn back into what you can only assume to be the profound blue chaos of nature. The manta washed onto the beach white belly up, pee hole gaping, with a jagged, bloody crescent missing from the wing.

Back on campus I asked for a pro re nata of Valium. I had to go to the dutch doors where they kept the meds and ask every time. Even after I'd let the Tuesday med doc hug me and cradle my feet while chatting, even with the script he gave me, they would not give out whole bottles of meds to rich kids or staff either. You had to go and ask, and the med dispenser on duty would try and coo and pet you to distraction. You would have to insist on the meds and squirm away modestly.

Soon that got very tired and I couldn’t get paid. I was so young that I thought they would budge by threat of a lawyer. It was easy to assume that not being paid would mean that I could not come up with an attorney. The lady who had told Roshanna to throw the kleenex box told me that I should probably leave in the middle of the night so as not to upset the rich kids.

The fattest faculty taught me how to peel avocados. Her attitude was that it was a huge favor to let someone in on something everyone else already knows. She reminded me that I was only a few years older than our students. After a weekend in Orlando drinking wine coolers and dancing in the bars on Orange Blossom Trail, I cleared out of the cinder block studio, found Interstate 10 and drove it all the way to Los Angeles. I was the fastest car on the highway except for Annie Lennox , who happened to pass me in her Targa crossing the Mojave. She actually managed to shoot me an inappropriate glance through all that glass.


by Hoolie

4 classifications

Hey Sylvia

Spotted you out in the CCC parking lot this afternoon snapping clouds with your long-ass lenses and your convertible looking cool.

Your story: world is divided into following classifications: annoying, agitating, exasperating, and upsetting.

Yet there you were maybe grooving or maybe gathering evidence.

And then those of us who survived
realizing nevertheless how sluttily
chilling in the dez on mandated recreate

Remainder of world gaydom reeling
but seasonally flooding the pool
may they take home some flavor

of days when men roamed live
like it was life's last laugh
every night a glowing surfeit

alcoholic firebrand drumkits
there was this was a counterculture
so many soft-cotton swaddled dicks

everyone a similar golden color
workers were crowning paramount
unlimited beer and cigarettes

now freeze dried forever, a residual
fanciness, snide or glassy earnest,
not flannel or denim in that sense.


Love, Tom

memories from everywhere in on at my body

only just now realized (had previously suspected)

only just now realized
(had previously suspected)
that i'm pre-selected
to go to pasture

careers into deep space
must be blind to any
evidence of imminent
disaster to circumvent

anticipatory sepukku.
outbursts, demanding.
desperate clambering.
non-best practices.



by Ilyn

Gong

Gong.
No.
Gong.
No. No...
Gong. Gong.
N-no..No!
Gong.

Green rubber smock

Aside from these flashes
of green rubber smock,
which i found to be un-
comfortable, with naked
bloody jelly, against my
mommy

And stainless steel, once
gruesome, now just tired
in a billion kitchens: 60's
newborns remember ash-
amedly yet in a light less
dimly

August rises redundantly
announcing renewed urg-
ency to push, push harder
and the grind on the city
mortar or orbital mower,
calmly


Donna
"I'm at peace with my hip-to-breast ratio."

Fungi and invasive finery

Jan,

Thank you for sharing this. One aspect that seems out of balance, however, is an ongoing one. That is the idea that Peg is there to help Ted with his health problems, and that hers appear to always come second, no matter the severity. Did you omit her strokes because she asked you to? Her health has been progressively and adversely affected by constantly carrying Ted's wheelchair (yes, even the "light" one hurts my back when I lift it), as well as being housekeeper and nursing staff while she is having strokes and other serious issues such as rotten teeth, which they finally got around to paying for during your visit. They have no dental insurance for her.

Between foot and brain, is the brain not the more vital organ? Strokes are what Peg is actually having-- not just something that "either one of them" could hypothetically have. If we are talking about contingencies, it is not difficult to asses who is in more danger of "passing first." Peg is determined but is losing her battle to meet all of the harmful and inappropriate expectations placed on her by someone who does not and cannot effectively appreciate or respond to the needs of others. No judgement here-- just a verified fact that is widely agreed upon by many reasonable observers, including members of your family and, at times, our parents themselves.

 I am assuming that the above and also the omission of the specific need for a different living arrangement where Ted could receive care without further endangering my mother's health was left out because they were also copied on your note. I believe we need to be quite

direct, however, and very soon, about what is needed and not sugar coat, which our parents are already way overdoing themselves.

So it sounds like the conclusion is that we should just continue the status quo: everything will be fine as long as Peg continues to cater to Grandpa Ted's health needs in spite of her own much worse health (which you did not mention). I believe that is not a correct impression or conclusion to be circulating-- even to them-- but you are obviously entitled to your own observations and opinions.

If you believe for religious reasons or whatever that a woman must completely subject her own needs to a man, then Ted has four daughters who are women, and maybe those of you that feel that way should consider doing that for your father instead of placing that deadly expectation on Peg, who has never held those beliefs. Indeed, once she is gone, it will be the four of you
who will be responsible for Ted and his substantial demands. After watching what has happened to Peg over the past few years and how much her health has disintegrated while caring for a mostly robust yet selfish man, we will certainly not be the ones to continue Mom's sacrifice beyond her lifetime.

This is what I feel duty bound to say as a family member, and please trust that I am far from alone in these sentiments among those who know Ted and Peg intimately day to day.


Sincerely,
Hoolie

toast & eggs

butterfly

If not...

if not craven, picaresque or cruel
if not disengaged, deluded

vines and

Now they have and have been having them for a while

When before they were always just about to have them?

At least if you're dead all the sudden you'll know why.

so much is revealed in the eyes when you say what state you're from

and you might think much less if you only claim it as a birth place

but the ground itself is run through with nodes or a beckoning mesh

even while seated you may be inching backward to that sucking hole

from which you entered the world and began to absorb its pollutants

and energy and riddles and talking ways and then shat into it so often

by Ilyn

"Been ailing."

Glory hole of war

[This post has been masked by the Mthyuh Protection Society's soulless inquisitors.]

pellicle

cowl, pellicle, slime

You want too much truth

feel your own blood
how you know what life is
liquid creature encaged

follow the sound into louder
where it seems more human
bladder of every pain

tumble down the common stair
natural as water hitting base
wake-up to pin this day

Thanks,
Hoolie

sloth ambulance II

sloth ambulance
it's an urgency

this tree surgeon
i don't recognize

ad reels spin
until dawn is none

actors re-imagine
everything great

facial whores
sell out our grief


by Peg
"I wrote in my husband."

He sleeps fine

i cd tell him
pls come back to the other bed pls

i cd beg and cry and fall asleep &
he could sigh

but instead i rhyme like a maricon
& he sleeps fine


by Mike

On drama

God everything didn't used to be so serious
yes it did
no it didn't

When is it dramatic and when is it drama
it's all drama
no, dramatic is real

You mean mimesis is cathartic, but
life is dramatic
it's not real drama

Life is intense and absurd and shocking
drama tries to capture that
life is that. yeah.

But now somehow life exaggerates itself
drama's more plausible
if that's not dramatic, then

Then it's not life because life is more
intense than any drama
i was going to say that


Peg & La Chama
Inter-cellular whispering through ancient glory hole carved through stone wall
Mthyuh Protection Society prison installation
Chukka, Low Chank

Early spring

The mind alone

the mind alone is not a mind but a mind's freedom fantasy
meanwhile atrophic a good set of flesh bound only by light
servitude to anarchic teenage Gorgon or yes that construct

of a mind about itself afraid of consort or to act inasmuch
the unrentable pairing is as obnoxious to us as anyone's ass
one sits dumb waiting and the other verbal preens in jelly

by Ilyn
"Any carnal powers were spent on the violence of my birth."

old tracks

when can i olvidarlo

no podemos evitar el amor ni pararlo
como toda la cara hundira sin soporte
de dientes, y tendrias que romperles
de la boca con una fuerza desmadrona
o dejarles de putfrificar atras decadas
incluso y especialmente cuando nos
preguntamos when can i olvidarlo

by suthi

resist prayer

while i'm not a giant
i resist prayer
and when the urge comes

i go where my unapologetic
ancestors swaggered off
and on charneled fields

to defend one's own dignity
against anti-existential
appeals campaigns talk

we deities of autonomy
rule this flesh for now
want believe name judge


Peg
(twins oncoming)

I don't know

Now listen baby
my darling husband
or not exactly,
I do not know

I tell a joke that
you get the milk but
you didn't have to
purchase the yoke

and I think that's funny,
but I kinda wonder,
just what is going,
what is going on

I just don't know dear,
but I want to
and you must tell me
to calm my fear

Mister dear, Mr. darling
While I dangle like a vine
Keep me wondering
How to tell you
that I don't know
if you are mine

[repeat]



Missy
"For Phyllis"

oaxaca lime pit

how could blood be there
because it moves the way
they leave and later enter

it surges through a system
thumping against the beat
apart from what we listen

similarly without this pod
the screechings of heaven
give all sound redundancy


Ilyn
"Fresh scar = clean slate."

Somehow, I have to cry

if the id or whut?
could at least let
me a) cry b) read
c) exercise every
day I'd be healed


Ilyn
First Words
Gravel Emergence
(Oaxaca lime pit)

recovering

With this gesture,
I am literally trying to shrink my own head

It's gone WONG,
too much going on, crazy, getting fat on itself

Holding it all in or
covering ears to keep out stimuli: yes both!

With my hands
pressed in random placement on head, yes

Eyes at times,
it's the universal symbol of exasperation

But ever since they
burned the mthyuh down I've been wearing

Their shirt and mascot
because they are like my remote bad actors


Mike
"Recovering."

SSRI

we remember the woman who'd tear across campus eyes ablaze with some SSRI
she was the emblem of all our sadness and was protected for that reason as a goddess
cry-happy but smile-sad, our inner affect, uncomfortable gut doubting, all there


Tom & Sylvia (Retired)
Associate Professors
College of Cement
Low Chank Campus

We can't help loving, and we can't stop

For our part, we realize we became lifelong missionaries and took on the inevitable and really not even worth it agonies of that profession simply because it was ligamented into us by a couple of 20-something zealots going through a phase. They way beyond that now. But us... it was during our formative years. We can't help loving, and we can't stop. 


Deena Jan & Jan Deena Jansdaad
"We are brother and sister and the daughter and son of Jan Jansdaad, Jan's and my dad along with who we call "the other daad," our mum, Deena Jansdaad." -Jan

Everyone judged me

Everyone judged me when I started murdering everyone, but it turned out of course that I was just in the first ring of the waves, and then everyone was murdering everyone, and then it was like aha, I get it, everyone probably should have murdered everyone a long time ago.


Reptily
Apologia (fragment)

Peace

We moved out here because of the peace of the summer trees that surrounded the house and hid it from the street. However now that a warm winter has come at night we hear the hoarse cries of animals woken from a chill and killing each other impulsively or screaming in the heat of want and/or fear.


Sylvia & Tom Mareieds 
Associate Professors
College of Cement
High Chank

so... nauseous...

so... nauseous...
help all the units with viable true K tissue
uh... help them... their radioactive waste is
not a just reason to end the race we
crossed a line and twisted their progeny...
ours now to keep... let them be whole on
some island or deep chank hole... so... deep...


Illyn
First words (audio)
Fourth emergence from solid rock
Fordamall

i can't tell

overrated: celebration of other-self indifference
recreation of so-called sages with no evidence
when i suffer: can't tell who or how much blame
but a look within and all around seems the same
i can't keep up with it-- all the tempers i inflame
can't call me lame, but destruction's not my game
i'm badly lit-- flip-- i turn the mirror to its opposite
but that's still not it; what's my responsibility and
what's just bullshit, the produce of someone's
random ignobility, how much burden can i lay
of course in the most respectful way at the feet of
person or persons who made the system or let it
have its way with my innocent children god help
them as she may your houses may they burn, burn


Mkidza Mlaf
Temple Breach Response
Day II

Dumpster eagle

Fat-ass eagle dives for a mole and misses,
swoops self up into a treetop, but only
about 12 feet high. Staring dumbly down,
can't seem to remember why. Scratches claw-
to-head like a dog. Dumpster catches his eye.


by Mike

You're funny when you cry

Let me drag you around the
world as i use up the last
scraps associations places
while i remember and they
still live but hopefully do
not remember what i give
to a culture not my nation

How about a last tour to
confirm the invisibility of
what i think i know is there,
see in my face what's now
and new, plus you and
some cab fare, and a hotel
room to go discover or to

Cower where you can't hear
leaf blowers or sirens just
cooling fans in a cable box,
muffled hums of a garbage
disposal or the water softener
if you wander downstairs in
an hour when it's time to sleep.


Donna
Drama Night
Main Clinic
Centre for the Journal of the Meta-Cognitive Talk-Therapy Apologist Associations

pod boss

edge of the chaffed amygdalae
insouciance toward knowledge
tucked fuel sources in the cage

Probably got another one

scrubs in sealed shipping bags
heavy lined plastic, bar code
stickers, shoes obvious shape

stacked unskewed in a tower
busy representing a symbol of
a meaning to life's true answer

was nursing assistant school a
reasonable choice for me, the
first person since in my tree

since our species's ancestors
that developed little more than
an anus and a mouth, and we

trace our lineage back to one
of those; though the model
they've identified it looks like

a mouth similar in appearance
to a butthole, but both takes
in and out or possibly blows

the shit out through ears all
over its body, which had hair;
a heart is an undersea creature

squeezing like a jellyfish, and
always in liquid, the ribs a
hamster wheel of swimming

what ligature has to strap this
demon in to lunge for life as
might a racehorse but to eat/

shit; never really free except
for chemically, and in mama-
lian skin, it's too dark to see

but these thoughts populate
anxiety attacks as much as
organizations jonesing to

know your race / "heritage"
so they can put you in touch
with genetically linked others


Dr. Donna Thong
"Licensure in Dispute"

Age of resentment

We got into the grant program that paid for all our books
We get to class the first day and it says TIP: patients do not like to see excessive
jewelry or visible tattoos and there we were with our necks inked out in
shooting stars, both of us, by coincidence

Funny though how i'm like this mama polar bear pregnant with four babies barking out
orders and everyone scrambles to do what i want it's bitchin
they find out how many fetuses you've got and they take any abuse you can give them
but then i feel a little bad afterwards, but i'm fighting for my kids


Mkidza Mlaf

Hospice town

Bordering the frontier a town
splays greenly above a reservoir
kicks out sprays of dry mock-
flower leaf, like a movie lot
in a canyon sheltered from plan-
etary winds, still, magenta
and violet and mock-lavendar
where people say it's a spirit
place, where you come to get
in touch with healing power of
eponymous indigenous graves
and lots of folks who are well
paid for healing in case the
canyon moons, road runners
cannot quite get accomplished
for what the great spirits paid
in other words it's a whore town
a hospice town where therapists
palliate your last moments in
a state where you don't care
about the difference, as your
barber might be fine as last
confessor, it was where they
all came for the community
and low-cost care and healing
and either died or kept on
fucking us, them, each other
retaining that moment of last
meal pleasure forever, fading,
but whoring one for another


Hoolie
Late Revelations
Cliffe Suites

I went far

Now upon the return and in the glow of
the full moon out back i see i went far

Was it ingenuous to go away to live as
an outsider among a foreign tribe or in

Local outposts of the mind, violate the
hours that most would call a proper day

Or heroic to spin amok like weather to
create mock fortunes of errata until the

Axis tilts your head back to a familiar
square, a silent ticker-tape procession

And bent so, where you've been is up-
side down, yet somehow a perfect yarn

And thank your stars we've lived with-
out the anxiety about the breeding loop

No need to strain to imagine that one's
thoughts, approach, intent are common

Yet still without escape from the human
drama, played always on one instrument

Cradling my baby on this glacial shelf
a green northern light seems a beacon

The night we gave ourselves to the sky-
wide mystery, sparkling black screen

We cast it as a convergence or scheme
meant to recycle my past and his future

And take us, take us presently to some
longhouse or cloud palace, sleep, breast



Chamatilly
Late Shard #4

Invocation

when you came downstairs and stood perpendicular and silent in the kitchen
i realized there is a lot of language going on inside your ostensible muteness
and i wanted to tell you to just say out loud whatever you are rehearsing now

the tell was how you stroked at your cheek, a move someone else might fake
you know how people do to make it look like they're struggling with thought
all to protect a glorious micro-nap or stolen raptured stare into open-eye void

i too at the same moment self-realized my option to withhold, self-lobotomize
because there's no shame in disengagement, only a respite, a faith-driven sleep,
or a spirit to invoke when you want most specifically for a nearness of bodies


By Mike
"For Quan Li"

Lucre Leather Labor

because i had to climb atop so many species to be king
that thought translated into oh the same with other races
within distinctly mammalia, mother, i still trade in kisses
even after discovering rubber, i scrape flesh from suede
or the energized and conscious wholes, i point they shoot
why don't i simply fade if the objective is sheer numbers
my abject brothers must see it in my face, a winning self


La Chama
Greatest Hits, Golden Era
Collar of Skulls Press

Stalked By My Own Husband

I thought no one was there but
he was in the dark kitchen star-
ing. Sometimes his soft carpet
footsteps stop just outside my
office. When we watch TV, he
faces me perpendicularly on a
settee. He follows me around
the house, not when we're out.
If he were a top it would make
more sense. It's like the prey
hunting the hunter. It might've
jived in other times, locations,
but it can't be "you'll spoil it by
talking" if there are eggs to fry,
decisions, household decisions.


Sylvia
"I am Tom's wife."

How to feel about Mexicans

I feel resentful as I, an older American from a long line of Americans all accustomed to a similar standard, a growing standard of living, stand in front of a class, a class offered free by the government and paid for with my tax dollars, a class full of Mexicans in new clothes, because they make enough money, and I'm wearing clothes that are three years old because I don't make enough money. They'll take over the body shop business, for example, in a community. That's not jobs we don't want. They just do it cheap and they have big families and it's like a mafia.

These are Mexicans who call themselves Mexicans and not Mexican-Americans or Americans whether or not they are here legally or illegally. Many Mexicans, Mexican-Americans, Americans with a Mexican heritage, or anyone I know who is familiar with Mexico would agree that Mexicans consider their blood to be a race, their nationality a blood even more than their color. Unless they are Mexicans who call themselves Spaniards. These are spoken of, but I've never met one.

Mexicans are proud and their pride or machismo whatever creates a particular sore spot around anything involving language, especially the Spanish language. Mexicans are more self-conscious about their Spanish around Americans than Americans are self-conscious about their English among Brits. I lost my virginity to a Mexican man named Andrew.

He took me there not quite willing because not quite understanding but would have been and acted as if willing and became more than willing again and again and again in the coming months and year. He spoke an ancient language, studied French and philosophy and told stories about riding whales and shitting in his snowsuit to stay warm having fallen into a crevice while scaling Mt. Whitney.

Another Mexican man convinced me to move 2000 miles to be near him, forbade me to drink at the cost of immediate homelessness, would not allow me to cover myself above the waist while in bed, and infected me with hepatitis B. After meeting me for lunch in Los Angeles's "Ragland," his boss pointed out my splooge on his designer pants.

Finally I met Vic at a Silverlake AA meeting and by the end of it we had our hands on one another's knees as if we were already going steady. It was pure, beautiful lust. He got out of the car to take a pee near a cliff and I put my arm out the window to hold his dick for him. Vic's mother had a tree dangling with doll's heads. He handcuffed me to a bed and opened his bedside cabinet, which contained a hatchet. He took out the hatchet, and I said, "Now you're scaring me, Vic."

But before that we had a couple of years of blissful cohabitation and some hot, nasty sex of the variety only two gay men who had survived the 70's could know and appreciate. I moved out of Vic's for a reason I don't remember, but it wasn't because he tested positive. But he thought it was because he tested positive. Even though I told him it wasn't. We had the hottest sex ever, and he was at least 9 years older.

Then briefly was the boy I went out to dance with in the heyday of Chicago dance house clubs of house dance. His mother made us turkey with onions. Sorry. He was from Bolivia. I could segue into the most beautiful man of all, a Brazilian, or an even more beautiful Cuban man I dated after an encounter in a marble and chrome department store men's room in Madrid, or the Mexican-American Blackwater goon who was so beautiful I accused him on the dating site of being a sham, who bought me an outfit to wear around with him and let me make him cry at my kitchen table.

The other really buff Mexican which was really just a short term relationship was a pro body builder on some serious steroids with a temper so severe he calmly described beating up his neighbor simply for stepping over the property line. He drew me a bath once with one of those tub jacuzzi mats lying on the bottom of it and plugged into the wall and I did not want to get in that thing. We went on a trip to Baja and he got mad during breakfast, dumped my duffle in the parking lot and took off with my house keys in the passenger side cup holder of his jeep para la frontera. I had to return hours later on a tiny crowded bus with a dirty diaper stuffed in the seat-back ashtray.

The last significant Mexican intimate I can think of lived with his siblings and mother, the youngest of the family in her 30's, all saving and or spending their grownup incomes on whatever they liked, none almost ever home to use the pool or the immaculate bathrooms. Again it was all about this guy getting his papi in and that's that. We were in Palm Springs and he got out of the car to talk to some tawdry foot cruise traffic and disappeared.



by Hoolie
"Thanks for the memories Vic."