Fires in Mexico


The myth began in reality, when I arrived. Since I left I haven't been able to live anywhere.
Things seem possible as images and occasions but not as routine processes.

Skipped moments like puppets in a protest, and a man passed out.
He licked some crystals from a hand and straightened up, and the mules continued.

Puja applied a compress to her knee, infected from a trampoline accident.
She would laugh and laugh from the pain. Her parents were healers. A rasta surfed our couch.

I still cooked steak-ums at that point, though I was beginning to ride bikes.
I got another bike, then another. I hiked a lot. I was afraid to exceed a certain elastic limit.

I had a girlfriend. When we broke up she went to Africa, then visited me in Washington.
Then she went to Michigan, then Denver, then Queens, then Denver.

My housemates accepted me. Susan borrowed my Neil Young CD for a long time.
It was great to watch her fold laundry and listen to Neil Young.

It was the first time I had ever been in a Toyota 4-Runner.
Brian ate beans, shells & cheese and broccoli. He said "have a broccoli hit."

The writers made forts at Cecilia’s. Later we camped. We tried to do the things we were supposed to do.
Some people skied. When they did they went away because we didn't ski. We never saw them ski.

I realized I could buy ice cream whenever I wanted. It always snowed a lot in late September.
The trees still had leaves and held a lot of snow, so you beat them with a broom.

They don't seem to know I started over, people are doing these beautiful things.
I notice inefficiency in a different way, seem more tired, for now, until I get better at this.

It's not to graph the cooking peaks. People say I really do talk this way, the secrets locked in simple machines.
But when I saw Dave in New Jersey he couldn't believe it. He said "wow, you talk."