Tuesday, June 5, 2012

21

Tony as the digs are they cannot occlude the facts.  Nor can I.  Miss my wife and children and friends.  Feel like I have been amputated.  Wish there was Dilaudid for the heart.  I've looked, but have not found.  Another day, another scar.

OUR SADNESS (Denis Johnson)
There’s a sadness about looking back when you get to the end:
a sadness that waits at the end of the street,
a cigaret that glows with the glow of sadness
and a cop in a yellow raincoat who says It’s late,
it’s late, it’s sadness.

And it’s a sadness what they’ve done to the women I loved:
they turned Julie into her own mother, and Ruthe--
and Ruthe I understand has been turned
into a sadness...

And when it comes time
for all of humanity to witness what it’s done
and every television is trained on the first people to see God and
they say
Houston,
we have ignition,
they won’t have ignition.

They’ll have a music of wet streets
and lonely bars where piano notes
follow themselves into a forest of pity and are lost.
They’ll have sadness.
They’ll have
sadness, sadness, sadness.

7 comments:

  1. Tremendous prose. Be empty, and the next thing will come.

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  2. I thought Dilaudid for the heart was called "whiskey"

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  3. Hey, we ate your remaining ice cream in an act of faith that you won't be back here soon. So weirdly refreshing to hear from the other side. So glad you made it out, though I'll miss our banter. Get on with that business of getting well.

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  4. Advising against the whiskey, unless of course one of your readers is joining you in the chase. Maybe Otis Redding? It must be achy and gray without them.

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  5. Lose the sadness. I know easy to say, but keep eyes on the horizon. Be positive. Listen to Nurse Erin, a Saint, and keep on getting well. Focus. Work to heal the scars and fight for the strength to get on out. Peace and love and good will remember, bee happy. Pictures make me happy!

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  6. Potter, I swear I saw you jog by my house tonight. Dark hair, swarthy--must be the cherokee--are you related to Elizabeth Warren? Anyway, some guy who looked like he was kicking cancer's ass, and then some. Stay strong, and next time, pop in for a chat and a finger of the best: Macallans, straight from Scotland.

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    Replies
    1. Sarah,
      Potter slip you some hallucinatory drugs? Makes me wonder about your true stories now!

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