|
| The other night, after work, I was peer pressured to join my co workers
at Walter's bar, on 28th & 9th for some drinks. Walter's is a place
that the school has good relations with and we send many of our alum
there to guest bartend and get some experience in the industry. When we
got there, I saw that a number of the recent alum were there hanging
out and having a good time. It was a small pub with a pool table. Megan
and I got French Martinis and we chatted it up while our elixer began
to loosen the reservations of our hearts. It was pleasent. There was a
woman there, mylene a porn-star type cuban woman of middle age that
graduated with us, who is probably the most sexually direct person I
have ever met. She was hitting on me and jason hard core, kissing my
neck and telling me I was a great girl and raving about how she loves
london and her dream is to move there. I told her that when I do have
the chance to go to london I'm going to stay at her place. I've never
heard anyone glorify a place as much as she did London, To her it was
the center of the universe, and she kept stressing that there are only
2% latin people living in this nation. I joked that it would make her
an exotic commodity there, and she was especially excited by this
thought. Jason was having a hard time resisting her seductress powers.
Her directness put this sensitive soul in turmoil, a conflict between
his rationality and his carnal instincts. On our train ride into
brooklyn he expressed his disturbance, and I only said that succumbing
to carnal pleasures, leaves a thinker feeling empty and confused
afterward. He throrougly agreed and continued his habit of eloquent
prolonged talk sharing his principles about love and sexuality. I
internally laughed at the idea that he would not even have noticed if I
was picking my nose through his monologue. He was a spot light talker,
carried away by the melody of his own voice. All the same I enjoyed his
uniqueness and appreciated how his ideas were expressed better through
the language of his bouyant hands which more ably reflected the
theatrics of his hyper mind. Upon arriving home, I divulged into left
over chinese food, happy for the blessing of my very late dinner.
| | |
| Solar temptations provoke gluttunous procrastination- How can one bare to stare at a screen glowing cold and dull to that of barefoot frolicking through virgin grasses and pollen sneezes which tickle me deeply, my pores which bloom to the warmth of the sun's energy stirring to life the hibernation of my soul? Spring fever is only a sickness because of these worldly obligations. Because the essays, the cover letters, the resume revisions, the burden of post graduation duties, systemic necessities which bumper trail my path into the future | | |
| water slips down a dry throat hole.
unquenchable thirst,
unquenchable soul.
the water bottle is now empty.
To the tap I go.
| | |
| A revival.
A revery,
A feeling,
that reminisces of a good time which is intangible.
thankful to the light heart of wine,
to the sparkle of thine eye. | | |
| stress relieved itself finally, when i typed the conclusion to my all nighter paper, a job which i believe was satisfactorily done, considereing the circumstances.
Around 5ish this morning, at the very strike of dawn, the early birds sang loud and clear. So active. vocal yet cryptic. What were they saying? about 20 minutes later they prompted ceased their conversation. The morning became still and gray. Where did they go? | | |
|