Road Notes: That California Trip

San Francisco, 1:00AM
This is my world, my life, my lightning magic in letter in word, this is my divinity, striking sparks off the moon, this is my trinity, east and west coast wet and apart like thighs around the pink locus of my midwestern home, this is my sale in my pinstripe suit pantless, this is my matter more velvet than gray electrifying nerve to nerve to pen to heart to voice to tongue tip pointing out at you, right at you, this is my magic in a lightning line around the moon and into your vein, your mind, your matter like mine more velvet than pink, this is my magic, making magic for you.

San Francisco, 2:24AM
Club closed to my request of "Into the Void," the perfect song for my current context. Me, I danced like I'd never danced before, the glowing glorious power of this stranger in the strange land...for exactly three steps, until the thought finally occurred to me: "Rugs."

The dancefloor, it was with rug, rugged if you will, Me, I danced like sweet glory on the 1-2-3, then turned into a pitcher of spilt chum for the rest.

It was okay...I blamed the beer and wine I'd been lovingly fed all evening. Still, I wish I'd remembered my teflon shoes.

San Francisco, Crouched on Bush Street, 6:06AM
There's my hotel ain't it pretty. Love the pink neon sign. Matches my pink closet in the room. My room glows like cotton candy. Last words here before naptime: Bukowski said, "Being sober is easy; being a drunk takes endurance." On that note, I present my

Fourth Annual Travel Binge
Cast of Characters, in order of appearance
9:00AM --Shot of rum from flask, MSN men's room
11:00AM --Double Bombay Sapphire 'n Tonic, MPS airport
12:00PM --Bacardi 'n soda, 7 mi. over Casper, Wyoming
12:50PM --Bacardi 'n soda redux, to toast the Great Salt Flats
2:00PM --24oz. Paraat Ale microbrew, Paraat Restaurant
4-5PM --2 pints Anchor Steam or some such pilsner
8-9PM --1/2 pint Captain Morgan w/ soda. Prep time.
CLUB TIME, 9:00PM-5:00AM
--8 pints Guinness
--3 hero-sized glasses of luscious red wine
--1 something with tequila or something
--1 Jack 'n Coke the size of a small, drunk animal
--1 shot Captain Morgan
--1 Cap'n 'n Coke
--misc.

(I'd like to thank the Academy.)

Question Asked, 5:05AM: "You drank for twenty hours? How in the hell are you still operative?

Question Answered: "As Bukowski said, endurance, firstly. Couple endurance with the fact that my energies are dedicated to rearranging nightmares -- as should be the raison d'etre of any poet -- and you've got a person who seldom has time for sleep."

I can't believe I called myself a poet. How pretentious.

BELT FASTEN WHILE SEAT SEATED

MOUTH FARTS

Naptime.

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