Today we sat face to face for the first time. No words, of course. That would shatter the density. For someone who has, at times, loomed so relatively large in my life, I am taken aback to find her body small. Pencil-thin, even. Today I noted that her right thumb seems to be quite a bit stubbier than her left. I do love her hands, fingers so slender. But I am not thinking of her sexually. She is half my age, and while that has hardly been a deal breaker for me these past few years I would, generally, consider it a red flag. I mean, I have no regrets with respect to the women I knew who were half my age. But one got deported for compulsive shoplifting and the other wanted to eat my shit, and for me to eat hers. These were not normal pursuits. The latter did get me to pee on her, which turned out to be a sweet, almost pure experience. She summoned a rare smile and said it felt nice.
But enough of those two. I just need to document this near encounter, absurd in its way. I was late, or what I consider to be late. I’d been masturbating longer than I realized, today to a chubby twat seen mostly squashed between crossed legs. She was teasing with it, and it was fun. But when I came for her and washed the jizz away the time shocked me. Where did it all go? How did this happen?
At the same time I thought being a little late might set me up to cross paths with this woman again, as she seemed to have adjusted her routine to get the train a little later than I.
True enough, there she was, making what I determine to be a definitive and unmistakably sustained look in my direction as I hurriedly approached. She looks mysterious under the hat, the face covering, the black garb and those cute Adidas tennis shoes. I say I don’t think of her sexually but of course I think of her sexually. I see myself untying those Adidas shoes, slipping them off her lithe, tattooed feet, and placing them someplace where they won’t be in our way. Yes, I think these things because I am heterosexual. But those are only thoughts. We are still allowed to have those, are we not?
The face to face situation seemed funny. In the past she might have blinked her eyes very rapidly, showing nervousness, thinking I might be/must be a creep because all men are creeps. She’s had some messed up times, bad experiences. As have I but I don’t care anymore. I was raped. Who cares? I am prone to and have endured numerous abusive relationships. Big deal.
Where is this going? I saw no rapid eye-blinking today, but nor did I sense impatience.
…
This morning blast was supposed to be about song lyrics I deliberately changed, for my own amusement. Not misheard, in the “kiss this guy” way. But deliberately changed for crass amusement.
Should known better than to eat a friend.
In “Bohemian Rhapsody” when he says “Carry on, carry on,” I substitute “Herbert van Karajan”
I’m not your Venus. I’m your penis
Steve Miller Band: “Swear they ran into a great big asshole.”
If no one has done so yet, I should write a parody of “O, Holy Night” called “O, Holy Shit.”
I did a rewrite of “God Bless America.” Would you like to hear it?
God bless vagina
gland for my glove
stand beside her, inside her
through the night with the might from above.
I cannot remember the rest, if there even was anymore. It got a laugh in a drunken reverie somewhere in time.
…
Yesterday turned into a desultory stramble up Astoria Boulevard, then through Broome Street, the Allen Street Malls, then the M15 SBS to the Ferry Terminal, where I found one working payphone among about a dozen. I found two grand pianos basking in the fall leaves on Astoria Boulevard. I knew they would be there. It was not a random find. I have sources, some more reliable than others. But when I heard there were two grand pianos improperly disposed of on Astoria Boulevard I knew I had to check that out before they were gone.
And I did. I’d be such a hot date, wouldn’t I? Grand piano hunting in the fall leaves.
I was on Broome Street to see, or smell for myself a strange, chemical-like aroma that has plagued the area for weeks now. It was definitely there. Not overwhelming to me but I could see where sensitive souls would find it sickening. No one knows where the smell is coming from.