Funny things at the Grand Flamingo pool [Miami, 2001]

- Muscle-bound women wearing floral-print backpack-purses
- Porn stars
- Little boys with protruding stomachs (healthy)
- Fat men with big tits
- Skinny man with large lightning-stripe tattoo on left shoulder
- Female manager of sex shop showing off her small tits
- Fat old woman with skinny white legs in a black one-piece with white ruffles
- Middle-aged Italian woman with silicone lips and tits
- Little girl using her dad's shoulder as a diving board
- Nalgene plastic containers of beer
- Conversations about who will go get more beer and bloody marys
- Cigarettes
- Desire to move chair from shade to sun
- Overwhelming laziness preventing such movement
- Speedos on men (whether appropriate or not)
- Desire to strike up conversation with other people
- Fear that they will shun me
- Girl spending a free summer with her boyfriend (his apartment)
- Conversations involving the phrase, "it's like... YEAH!"
- Conversations blending "it's like..." and thumbs up
- Short men compensating with large muscles
- Me thinking I'm smarter than almost everyone here
- Me not wanting to write down that I think I'm smarter than everyone here
- Me thinking about the girl, wondering when I should call her next

Another thought

God resides in the disorderly becoming patterned (or at least seems to)

conversations with Ian [Miami, 2001]

My notes indicate that I once brainstormed with Ian about a How to: Murder your toilet. Which has something to do with ice cream, and perhaps awkward situations.

"dude, I shit myself"
"just now?"
"no, yesterday"
"then you shat yourself
"shit"
"shat"
"fuck you."

Perfect and done

I turn right
square corner and glance
back at the damage I've left
short, dark, wet cuts
walking forward, guided by the
remains
slightly overlapping wheel marks
concentric squares with decreasing areas
lift the front wheels
square right turn
follow the line slight overlap
move forward
lift the front wheels
right turn move forward
a steady clean cut
fresh green moisture
that sweet smell
an itch
a satisfaction
a sniffle
and done.

Just a thought

Life is the conflict between trying hard and trying easy to do what you want.

An Inneficient

I tell my time with the expanse of couch supporting my blanketed feet. Across the room a TV offers stories I admire, filled with something new.

The sun searches for the shadow behind the tree out front. I share a guarded moment with a squirrel transporting his work. It might be time to eat. I should respond to mail.

Soft cushions and a weight of contentedness press in all directions.

It's nice to have you here with me. I watch your chest rise and feel your arm on my leg. I had promised I would read the articles in my bag. I would be better if I started now.

I like your closed eyes, scanning left and right, anticipating. You create the next moment and settle in.

I'm there with you, even if we don't explain it. The squirrel has carried away and the shadow is losing and we will get ready soon. And I like watching your eyes closed.