Coconuts

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Back in Nam when the rations didn’t come thru, you lived off your coconuts. Some locals here use the meat and wellspring to avoid all forms of hard labor. If you know how to drain the nut, which an adept can do with a dull knife, you have everything you need. Deodorant even soap or bathing are unnecessary for the healthy jungle eater, although one’s clothes suffer from a sour dough mildew. My new guru Spicoli set up a lawn chair outback in the woods and fashioned himself a tent with rope hung out a like hammock between two trees. Plastic trash bags he picked up at the dump drape over his lawn chair and sleeping bag. He enjoys the song of the Kauai O’o Bird and has abandoned his car here, suggesting it’s part of a work trade. The details of what we get never quite hammered out. His forté is barefoot with a chainsaw, tree trimming stoned, but what if he falls and self amputates on my property, then what?

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1.

I liked her, but I didn’t know her. A friend of a friend. Kind of punk and butch. An open face. I was distracted easy chatter when she took my arm and brought it to her lips. A gentle sucking. Light. I said what are you doing? Trying to give me a hickey? She left a tiny kissed outline. So light that when the knife came out I trusted her. I noticed the nose on the end of it turned up like a Persian slipper. A silver bead. Just an underline she said. For the blood sisterhood. But the knife was blunt. “DO IT!” I said. I had to close my eyes. She was too gentle and sawing. UGH and when I peeked there was a deep convex cone of flesh missing from my arm.

Middling

I asked Katie if I could sleep over.
She was my best friend.
When she got worms, I stopped going to the lavatory.
Snakes, macaroni and cheese, even Spaghetti
I quit.
We would watch TV but mostly pretend.
Walking each other thru various scenarios like a talking meditation.
Or a practice.
Pretend we bought an entire furniture store instead of a tiny mansion.
Her brother Mark started dropping in after lights out
wanting a back rub.
Katie did it until she got tired.
Then I Play-Dohed his shoulders.
In the middle of the night with the ocean waving.
He inched his fingers, touching me while I slept.
When he tried to put something inside of me –
from the center of him. I acted like I was waking up.
He wanted our middles to touch.

For sport I would

I want a penis

to practice guitar

full bodied explosions

I’ve heard

immediate sleep afterward

not just a better jerk

but the alleviation

of choked bar chords

and weak rhythm

if I could borrow for song

certain musculature

but then revert back

as fast as a serpent’s tongue

make a retraction

I would

Nests

My bifocals are on but I cannot concentrate. The cat is scratching, shaking me. Although I can’t see a thing even with my glasses on. I know at the end of all of my irritations is a flea. A plague I have dealt with and now is being further threatened by the mother in law. Who has summoned her son home back to the mainland. But we need to rip out the infested carpets. Now.

No poison works longer than 2 weeks with 6 cats. But of course to cancer us. I feel an irritation now growing and prickling up my back. I am the one afflicted.

Sitting

At “On the Rox” I was warned about Robin Williams. Which put me off. Not off of him, but of the person who said it.  I took it as gossip. But it was a probably a consideration. One doesn’t want to alienate the patrons. Or lose their job. 

Among the “A” listers at the private club on Sunset, he wasn’t primarily known for his comic genius. 

Book was he was a pest. Tireless in his pursuit of drugs. Dangerously shameless, asking strangers even for a line of coke. Attention seeking, needy, and the last person to leave the party. 

I would have preferred hearing that Robin was highly energetic. That I should be mindful of containing the noise. Remember it’s invitation only. Don’t attract paparazzi, party crashers, or the police. 

He immediately launched into teasing me. Mocking the bartender and her nasal voice. His schtick wasn’t personal, it didn’t even sting. His compass was way off. Valley Girl?  And there I was starving for a roasting, not a caricature. 

I tried to feign a smile. Everyone else was howling. In retrospect I wonder what I was expecting a psychic? I should have been honored to be his straight man. But I wasn’t content.