I partly blame, or credit, Roberto Bolano. I am deep into my Bolano obsession. It started during the lockdown and continues to this day. I started by tackling his magnum opus, "2666," then went on to "The Savage Detectives," then "One Night in Chile," and at the moment I am reading the short story collection "Last Evenings on Earth."
Absolutely the best, you know, Bolano knocks me out. Always on the verge of something momentous on every page. A fierce intelligence, a shimmering clarity. I just feel lucky to have discovered him. Hat-tip to Patti Smith and her book "M Train."
Yesterday was an odd day.
No major catastrophes, but lots of little fuck-ups. My companion chalked it all up to "bad karma." Making fun of stupid people. This led us both to contemplate how we could do better, how to renew ourselves, how to live with clarity & heart. What are our intentions? What is our vision? What's up, Doc?!?
Yesterday was all...
snarling, frothing
out of control
ragged beasts
bee stings
blood &
throbbing pain
near crashes
scraped knuckles
obligations
sweat
dirt
hair
& snot
